The Keys of Remembrance
by MoonlightGypsy
Summary: MA Tony struggles to keep a dark secret from his friends...while an enemy from his past works to break him with it.  Warnings: refers to childhood abuse/non-con & violence. Rating MA.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I do not own, or claim to own, any rights or trademark on NCIS or the characters used here. I simply like to play colorforms. Note though, that the creativity of the story, and it's plot, those are indeed mine.

**WARNING : This story has very graphic, disturbing and dark material, not suitable for anyone under 18. I am writing a variety of stories…so please see the other ones if this is not your cup of tea.**

THANKS – GRACIAS – DANKA – DOMO – GRAZIE

He sat at the piano, staring for a moment at the keys. He flexed his hands, hoping no one would see the slight tremble in his fingers. He glanced ever so quickly over at McGee, a small smile playing at his lips. McGee was sitting at a small empty table on the floor of the club, looking at him with a little half sneer, one eyebrow raised.

"You asked for it, McDoubtful," he said, in as normal a voice as he could muster. "Don't forget, it's a **HUNDRED** bucks, not ten."

McGee rolled his eyes. "Yeah, alright Tony, I know. But let's see you put your money where your mouth is."

He looked down at the keys, pushing away the memories that went along with sitting down at a piano, telling them to stay in the dark corners of his mind. His fingers touched the ivory smoothness, and he smiled impishly to himself.

He started playing a slow and painfully stuttering, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…

McGee snorted in disgust. None of the wait staff roaming the empty club looked up. They were too busy setting tables before the evening rush. The owner, who they had questioned ten minutes earlier about a murder suspect, eyed him with humor from behind the bar.

"Oh yeah, Tony, that's brilliant. I wish I could play like that." McGee snorted in disgust.

He looked back at McGee for one more moment, smiling his broadest smile, "Oh yeah, McGee ?"

Just then, he switched his hands up, moving with ease into the first notes of Claire De Lune. It was so long ago since he practiced the beautiful notes, over and over in his father's study…but there they were, pouring out in perfect timing as he envisioned them in his mind. He didn't look up again at anyone…he had to concentrate to keep the arrangement properly…

He remembered being so good he could play and hold a conversation at the same time with his piano teacher. He shivered and faltered for a moment at that thought, but kept on.

As he finished Claire De Lune, he drifted right into Beethoven's Sonata #14, another song that had been drilled into him over and over, until it was part of his DNA.

He pushed all other thoughts away now, losing himself into the softness of the rich, drifting tones…

It felt good. To become the music, letting the keys take him away from reality to somewhere with no name, where he was not Tony any more, no identity, no worries, no pain…he drifted right down into it with #21, and #23. The sound filled the room, and went through every part of him.

He eventually came to the close, the song ending. He slowly came aware again of his hands touching the keyboard, and the image of them placed there suddenly made him feel wrong, and he pulled them back to his lap. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He took a sharp breath in and looked up. Everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing, and were staring at him. McGee's mouth hung open, his green eyes wide and brow creased in disbelief.

Next to him, stood Gibbs, who had the strangest expression on his face, and Tony couldn't place what it meant. When had Gibbs even come in ? He realized he must have been at this a good 20 minutes… _uh-oh_.

"Uh…Boss, I –" he stammered, "we…McGee didn't believe I could –"

"Holy _**crap**_," McGee stated, still in disbelief.

Gibbs flatly said, "If you're done playing Liberace for the day, DiNozzo," a hint of a smile on his lips, " we have to get back, now."

He pushed up from the bench, "Yes Boss, right now, on your six." He hurriedly jumped off the stage, looking up at McGee with a little snort. "Whatsa matter McDoubtful, cat got your tongue ?"

"Tony, I –" he began, following Tony out to the truck with Gibbs, "that was so amazing, I- I mean, like _professional_. Incredible. I don't get it. "

He closed his passenger door as McGee got in the rear seat. Gibbs turned the ignition and took off, accelerating like mad already, not appearing to be paying any attention to them.

"What don't you get McGee, aside from the fact you owe me a hundred bucks?" Tony smiled, laughing just a little.

McGee frowned and leaned forward in his seat behind Tony, "Well, uh, you 're so good…why aren't you playing professionally?"

He felt Gibbs shift a little in his seat and tilt his head. His icy blue eyes still stared at the road, but one eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, a subtle signal of his interest in Tony's answer.

His stomach clenched. He surely should have known, there would be a price to pay for exposing himself. His need to befuddle McGee had overpowered him again. He looked out the window, trying to figure out what to say. Maybe this time a half truth…better than a flat out lie and easier than ever recounting what really happened. He sighed softly, heart beating a little faster in working out the approach.

"Well, let's just say that it's a path I couldn't let myself go down, for a number of reasons. My teacher and my parents wanted me to go pro, had me at lessons from age four. I had some raw talent to start with…but, anyway, after my mom died, my dad became fanatical about it, as did my teacher. My dad felt it was honoring mom's memory to pursue it. He was obsessed. When she was alive, he used to sit and watch us - she and I used to play together sometimes…" his voice had grown softer, in the remembering how beautiful she was, seated beside him, long fingers working the keys…he wished he could have told her what was happening to him in that study. What happened when his parents weren't home and he was alone with his music teacher. Maybe, if he had told her, things would have been different… but he didn't have the words then. He probably didn't now either. And she had been so ill right before she died...maybe it had been better she wasn't burdened with knowing.

The silence of his pause came to his attention, and nervously he continued, trying to sound casual, knowing the two other men were intent on his explanation.

"Anyway, it became…too much. My father being fanatical, my teacher's perfectionism. I was just a kid. I …just got to the point they were having me play constantly, and in front of people, and I hated it. The hours of practice that went into it… my teacher wasn't the most pleasant character."

Gibbs' one brow seemed to drift a little higher at that. Or maybe Tony was imagining it. He feared the Senior Agents "Spider Senses" would ruin his attempts at screwing the lid down on the conversation. How would his Boss react to the real story? He couldn't be sure could he? He trusted Gibbs with his life…but this? A flash of the ruler coming down on his knuckles went through his mind, along with remembering the smell of scotch laden breath and rough hands…an involuntary shudder went through him. Thankfully, Gibbs' eyes were still on the road. He had to end the whole conversation now. Panic was rising up from inside him.

"I finally told my dad I didn't wanna do it anymore, that I was done. I guess it really pissed him off. Next stop was Boarding School."

There. That last part was real enough.

Silence for a minute again, then from the back seat, McGee let out a little puff of air. "I'm really sorry Tony." Tony knew he was genuine, as McGee always took family issues to heart. Not wanting Tony to feel bad, he continued "I guess I could see how your dad might have gotten a little intense about it after losing your mother-" McGee stopped abruptly, realizing Tony didn't talk much about his mom, and maybe it was pushing the conversation too far. And besides, Tony seemed to get along well with his dad now. He changed the focus. "Did you enjoy it at all? The music? I mean, if they hadn't made it so stressful for you, do you think you'd be doing it now? "

Tony smiled, a soft, bitter smile. "I dunno Tim. But we'll never know will we?"

Stopped at a light, Tony was still looking out the window, not noticing Gibbs eyeing him pensively.


	2. Chapter 2

That day in the club was now a few weeks ago.

Gibbs never said anything to his Senior Agent about his surprising performance and musical history. Though it was really damned interesting. And Tony was…well, damned talented. And no one had any idea_. And that's how it went with Tony sometimes_, he thought with amusement, _because just when you think you've got it down, he throws you another curve ball._

But he also knew there was more to it… The way Tony was shifting his body to ease the tension, when he told them about his family's aspirations for his music career.

The shudder that he thought Gibbs didn't catch.

Sometimes the clues about his childhood made Gibbs feel a real resentment towards DiNozzo Senior. He wondered if Senior had taken his advice to heart, to get to know Tony. There was always subterfuge, from Tony, when it came to his father. But Tony seemed to be as honest as he could allow himself to be with McGee about the piano stuff, and that alone was a lot. He knew when it was necessary to push the younger agent on something… but, he felt somehow it was important to respect Tony's unspoken boundaries on this one, leave it be unless he wanted to talk further about it. It was likely to come out sometime, in the basement one night after a few shots of bourbon.

When they got back to the office that day, McGee had almost immediately opened his mouth to tell Ziva about the experience, but Gibbs managed to shoot McGee a look, along with a hand motioning across his neck to let McGee know to let it die. And that, as they say, was that.

The elevator brought him out of his thoughts, the sound of its arrival and the two members of his team bickering on their way to their desks.

Where there was bickering, there was DiNozzo.

Ziva walked closely at his side, speaking in an animated fashion, hands gesturing wildly out in front of her. He smiled a little to himself. Wasn't DiNozzo the Italian here ?

"You are _impossible_ Tony ! I am just trying to say that_ maybe_ you could put a little more effort into it and you may get a response that is favorable. He **is** your father," she said urgently. Her dark eyes were now staring intensely at his back as she reached her desk.

Tony threw his backpack down next to his desk. He snapped his head back in Ziva's direction "You know, this coming from one of the most dysfunctional father-daughter situations I have ever seen! What do you suggest I get for the man who has had everything Ziva? What do you get your dad for the holidays anyway? A new model sniper scope or the lastest machette?"

She rolled her eyes in disgust. "I get him _something_ I know he will enjoy, no matter if he has had Cuban cigars before – I know they are his favorite so I get them for him every year. It is like…like a tradition. It does not matter. So what if it is old bat."

"Hat." Tony said flatly. "Old _hat_, Ziva."

With the holidays approaching, this was all he needed. He didn't even know where Senior was, so how could he even plan to send him a gift? He would have to chase him down, which Senior disliked, unless there was a "proper" reason. But what annoyed him most about Ziva's needling about the topic was that as usual, she was right.

"You two done yet?" Gibbs growled, after hanging up the phone. "Cos I've got the perfect gift for both of you. " He got up and started towards the elevator, pulling gun and badge from his desk. "I'll stop myself from firing you today since we have a case."

"Dead body, boss?" Tony asked, just as McGee had been coming in from the elevator and turned himself around immediately to follow the team behind Gibbs.

"Yep." Gibbs said as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

><p>The crime scene was nothing spectacular. A handsome young Marine who had been deserted by his fiancé, decided he had nothing to live for, and took his own life. At least, that's what it looked like. When they got there, he was still hanging from a rafter in the attic of his apartment building. They sketched, took photos, interviewed neighbors. Nothing they hadn't seen before. But still, they were quietly watching Ducky and Palmer load the body into the van with a degree of thoughtful sadness.<p>

"Why couldn't he figure out a better way than this?" McGee asked softly, more to himself than the others.

"Sometimes," Tony said in a strange, but relaxed tone, "people go through bad times, and they just don't have the creativity to visualize a different reality for themselves. They can't see it… picture that it will get better. Without that picture…they have nothing to hold on to."

They were all silent again for another moment, but Ziva was eyeing him. "That is very true Tony." She raised an eyebrow and continued. "That is a very deep observation." There was no sarcasm in her comment.

He was a little uncomfortable and tried to think of something stupid to say to get off the serious track they were on but - Gibbs saved him again with good timing.

"Let's go! DiNozzo, McGee, back to the office and look up Private Marset's financials and find out who he reported to. Ziva – with me. We're going to go see his family."

* * *

><p>As Tony and McGee got back to their desks, Tony noticed a small bubble envelope sitting on top of some other general interoffice mail. A subtle thought of the envelope containing Y. Pestis entered his mind, but then he dismissed it as the protocols for MTAC mail had gotten sharper so nothing like that could slide through again.<p>

He picked it up, and shook it a little. Nothing moved.

"Wha'tcha got there Tony?" McGee asked casually, and unknown to his friend, his mind also flashed to Tony and suffering and blue lights.

"Ah, dunno' McGee, but – starting to think it seems like a pen box or something. Maybe a sales gimmick." He shrugged and looked at McGee as he sat down to open the envelope. It was a typewritten sticker addressed to him on front, with another sticker on back. Return address was a P.O. box in Commack, Long Island. And at the lower corner of the sticker, a little red star. He hesitated at that for a moment_. Big deal. A red star. __Whatever._

He looked up to see if McGee was watching him. But McGee was thankfully already typing away at his computer.

He tore the side of the envelope open, and reached in with his fingers to extract the item.

In his hand now was one piano key, smooth ivory planes with wood at the bottom. His heart pounded as he noticed something written on the wood. _No, no, no…_

But as he turned it over for a better look, he saw it.

HI 226

He was stunned.

_What the_ _**hell **_? _Who could have sent this?_ His breathing hitched. He tried to steady himself, both hands now at his desk edge. He felt dizzy. Bile was rising in his throat.

He had to look at it again, but realized he had dropped it onto the floor.

"Tony."

He looked up and saw McGee looking at him worriedly.

"Tony, you okay?"

He took every ounce of himself to work into a casual smile. "Yeah McGee, I just think I might have… eaten something bad at lunch…not agreeing with me. But I'll be okay."

McGee eyed the empty envelope, looking hesitant as to what to do next…ask or let it go.

"Um, so was it a pen?" He asked quietly.

Tony reached across his desk for one of the nicer black pens he had been awarded as sale with purchase for his last Armani suit.

"Yeah," he looked down at it in his hand. "Spend enough money on a suit and they send you all kinds of little stuff."

He wanted to go on, say something smoother, but he wasn't there. He was shaky and struggling hard not to let McGee see it.

McGee shrugged. "Ok." And then added as he sat back down at his desk, "Maybe you should get something for your stomach."

He didn't quite believe Tony, who had little color in his face, but it was hard to put his finger on what had just happened. Tony looked upset. But over a pen…no. Maybe he was telling the truth about his stomach?

Tony quickly grabbed the piano key under his desk and threw it into his backpack. He would think about it later. He ripped the envelope up into pieces, knowing he probably shouldn't. He should be bringing it to Abby to try and glean information off it. But that would start the chain.

The chain of curiosity.

The chain of concern.

Which he would choke on if his friends became aware of any of the real story. He couldn't. He couldn't even think about how they would react. He couldn't imagine living through the truth of it with them…the sadness, the anger…the pity they would look at him with in their eyes. Never. He couldn't.

He had decided not to be a victim long ago. Nothing was going change that now.

He would look into the P.O. box later.

He got up, without another word to McGee and went to the men's room, where conveniently to go along with his cover story, he lost his lunch entirely.


	3. Chapter 3

Wrong.

The bullpen was wrong. Gibbs felt it as soon as he had gotten back with Ziva. McGee was working diligently to get all the information on the case he's asked for. But his SFA was not at his desk. That fact alone should not be a problem…but his gut was never wrong and it was telling him otherwise.

"Dinozzo ?" he asked in McGee's direction.

"Dunno Boss, but seems like something he ate made him sick. He got up from his desk about an hour ago…I haven't seen him but his stuff is still there, so I figure maybe down with Ducky ?" McGee finished and looked back to his computer as Gibbs made off to go down to autopsy. He hadn't elaborated any more, because what was the point? If it _was_ something important, Gibbs would get to the bottom of it. He wished Tony trusted him more. It was sometimes very upsetting and annoying, that he always felt that they only scratched the surface. And it was tiring. Then a guilty thought followed that one, that Tony hadn't had the kind of family McGee grew up with. _Still,_ he thought, _when does it end? When does he just stop the bull and trust someone_?

He pondered it a while longer. Tony really made him angry sometimes, but he knew how much Tony cared for them all, and would put his life on the line for them without a moment's hesitation.

But back to the truth of it – Tony's general behavior, the Frog Op, and the assignment from SECNav, just made it so hard to know how to connect with him in a real way. Tim sighed. He was over thinking it again. That fact alone made him angry.

He went back to focusing on work.

Tony stood in front of the mirror in the men's room.

After he had finished vomiting, and cleaned up a bit, his mind kept playing over the piano key he got today and where it had come from.

Robert Anselmo, his piano teacher, who still occasionally haunted his nightmares, was dead. **Dead**. No one else knew about the keys. Well, at least he'd thought no one else knew. And it had looked like an original key, not even the ivory topper had been replaced.

He remembered that first key, when "Bobby" had pulled apart the piano a bit to get to the wooden underside of the key.

Tony had been sitting on the bench, quietly watching. He was numb, still unsure about what had happened between him and his teacher the night before. It was the first time Anselmo had agreed to watch Tony for his father, after his mother died. Senior had to go on a business trip, and since money had become tight for them, he had looked for ways to do without the nanny. He was delighted Bobby would take care of things at no extra expense until he got back. And it would keep Tony on track with his practice.

Bobby was writing onto the bottom of a key in a cramped position around the piano. "This is a special thing I'm doing, Tony. It's just for us. Just between us…just like the music is really only between us too." Tony didn't understand at all. All he knew was that he missed his mother. So much. And he wanted to get away from Mr. Anselmo, but he felt there was little he could do about it.

The night before, Bobby's hands were on his shoulders and back, pushing him down, whispering in his ear "You'll be a good boy for me, Tony, I know you will…I'm the one that's here for you now. Your father doesn't care about anything but drinking. I'm the one that loves you." Tony squirmed and tried to crawl out from underneath the man, who now had him pinned on the bed.

"Oh no, that's not the right way to act," Bobby continued in almost a croon, "But if you want, I can make you mine all the time. I can make your father disappear, just like I made your mommy disappear." Tony gasped, and started crying. "Ahhh yes, you see now don't you? There's no one else who will take you under their wing but me, if he's gone too. You'll have to move in with me and Tommy, and his mom."

Tommy was his best friend. His only friend. Because they were about the same age, and sometimes Tommy was allowed to come over and visit while Tony had his lesson. Tommy was told to play outside for a while, until they finished. Sometimes if the lesson went well, Mr. Anselmo let Tommy stay for a few hours, running and climbing the trees on the Dinozzo's property. But as much as he loved Tommy, he had also loved Mr. Anselmo. But that was only until that night... Before he wrote on the key. The night it all changed.

His hands were moving, stroking Tony's hair and back, trailing down his body.

All the other times Bobby had touched him like this, were by the piano. Sometimes even when his parents had been home, but mostly when they went out, leaving him to his lesson. It hadn't seemed so frightening then, the little touches, and strange moments where the teacher's lips were on him. But this was a different place. And Tony had no clothes on.

"You don't want that though do you? You want your dad to be okay right?" Tony was sobbing into his arm but nodded. "Well, then it's all settled," the man's teeth nipped at his shoulder. "Everything's gonna be perfect."

Gibbs had seen Ducky, then Abby, who had no reports of sighting Dinozzo.

_What now_? He shook his head to himself. _Dinozzo, you're lucky you're worth all this Goddamned aggravation. _

He walked into the men's room and hit paydirt. Dinozzo was splashing water on his face. Hands a little shaky. Green. His face looked green. He noticed Gibbs and looked up while grabbing a paper towel to dry hi face off with. "Hey Boss."

Gibbs walked over to the sink and turned around to face Tony, leaning back and eyeing him with that deadpan expression that always precipitated a question of some kind.

"What's up with you, Dinozzo? You sick?" Gibbs asked in an even tone.

The green eyes shifted for just a flash. _Yep. Problem_, Gibbs thought. _If it's another undercover op, I'm just gonna shoot him now and save everyone the aggravation_, he thought with bitter humor.

"I'm…not feeling too good, Boss, that's all."

Gibbs wanted to punch a wall, but all he said was "Ok, Dinozzo, go home."

Tony was stock still "What?"

"Go home. You heard me." Gibbs turned to leave. "You look like crap."

"But-"

"If you haven't been able to work for the last hour," Gibbs added softly,"then it's obvious you aren't of any use to me right now. Go home, and get some rest. Unless there's something else I should know?"

Dinozzo stared at him for a moment. He suddenly wanted to tell Gibbs everything. Unload it all. Just get it over with and deal with the consequences. But the mechanism he'd built up to protect himself for so many years kicked in. Self preservation . It had turned on him, hadn't it? Become something that separated him from everyone somehow. _Shit_. He held his tongue. He looked away from Gibbs, scowling. "No."

He hated himself. He was a coward. No matter what he told himself about not wanting to be a victim, that wasn't really it was it? He was just simply chicken shit.

Which is exactly how Anselmo had gotten to him all those years ago. He sighed.

"Ok then." Gibbs walked out of the bathroom and followed with a "Better go get your stuff and get moving. You need to get yourself together and be back in the game tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

Tony came into work the next day, in a turtleneck and jeans. He was so, so tired. He couldn't sleep. He even thought about calling Rachel Cranston. He knew she would listen and be supportive…but, this was so…_personal._ Not work related. And he knew he had friends who would talk to him, and help him get to the bottom of it, find out what sick sonofabitch had sent that key.

Back and forth, all night he debated, felt the alternating urges to just get in the car and drive to Gibbs' house and tell him, or never, ever, ever let him know about it.

His Boss was maybe not such a diplomatic personality, alright who was he kidding Gibbs was the ultimate bastard. And the best friend he had ever known. The fear ate at him all night, too…and he was remembering way more than he wanted to.

In the end, he was exhausted, and knew he had to do something for himself. But how was he even going to begin ?

This was like…moving a lid off a giant stone sarcophagus. Which maybe he was stuck in.

Gibbs saw Tony come in. Not an improvement. He knew that this time, he was gonna have to push to get Tony to unload. Because he simply looked so worn out Gibbs decided to wait til the end of the day to invite Dinozzo over for pizza and copious amounts of alcohol to loosen his tongue.

Ziva and McGee noticed how quiet things were. They tried a few obvious ploys to get Tony out of his seemingly somber mood. Tony knew. He knew they cared, and that meant everything to him.

So when Ziva said casually, "You know, Ray says I am a little bossy," and paused looking at his desk, he snorted loudly. Tim smiled from his seat. That had done it.

"Bossy," Tony said incredulously, "you make Hitler look like a Muppet."

She was about to spur him on with another comment when the mailroom clerk walked by dropping an envelope on Tony's desk. Ziva saw the look on his face.

"What is it ?"

"Another pen ?" McGee chimed in, a little sarcastically, not meaning it to sound so harsh.

Gibbs looked from the corner of his eye at Tony, who was staring at the envelope with something between fear and rage on his face. Tony slowly took it in his hands and looked up at Ziva and then Tim. He leveled his gaze at Ziva. "Don't the two of you have work to do?" The tone, menacingly clear. They got busy but tried to steal more glances at him as he turned the envelope over, looking at the address stickers.

Again with that red star. Whomever it was knew about the red stars. _God_, he thought, _this is so screwed up._ He wouldn't be able to keep this under wraps anyway for long, if this psycho kept sending these to him it was not a good sign. Someone wanted to remind him of how he's been abused…_raped_... This was so sick. He was just a kid – who the hell would take pleasure in reminding him of that dark, lonely time in his life? And he had a terrible feeling the keys would keep coming until they ran out of them…

And then what ?

He swallowed, and took a long deep breath and opened the envelope. He knew Gibbs was watching him, so he did his best to school his expression. He knew he'd have to talk to Gibbs about this, but just not _now._

This time, there were two keys, and a note. He took each one and turned it over in his hands. SH 102, and HJ 116, the latter, with the little red star after it. He wanted to throw up again, but now he was furious.

Gibbs continued to act busy while glancing at Tony covertly. His SFA's hands were shaking as he turned over the items he pulled out of the envelope. Tony'e eyes seemed to be looking somewhere to the side as if trying to figure something out.

Then he opened the little piece of paper that had come in the package. He held it for a moment, while Gibbs assumed he was reading it.

Suddenly, Tony jumped up, crumbling the note and letting it fall to his desk. He stomped out of the bullpen mumbling something about getting coffee.

Gibbs knew something had really set Dinozzo off to lose control like that. And wasn't going for coffee _his line_ anyway?

"Boss?" came McGee's concerned query. "It's not an undercover right? I mean, it seems like it's something personal right?" When he saw Gibbs glaring at him he added,"I – I am getting back to work." And looked at his screen. But then bravely added with out looking back up "It's just, I hope he's not in any danger…again."

Gibbs smiled a little at that.

He caught Ziva looking at him and she immediately went back to work as well.

He casually got up, and walked over to Tony's desk. There were what appeared to him to be two old piano keys on his desk, with some kind of reference numbers written on the bottoms. If it was an op, it was a strange one.

He picked up the crumbled note and opened it.

It said :

"_You always want the one that got away."_


	5. Chapter 5

Ziva saw Gibbs over at Tony's desk and watched him read the note. He put it down and then picked up one of the other items from the desk. He studied it for a moment, and then put it back down. As he turned to go back to his desk, she saw the item, and recognized it immediately as a piano key.

Her mind flashed back to when she and Tony were stuck in the shipping container, after Tony asked how someone gets a dinner invite to her house.

She still felt a little bad about having them all over without him.

"_-Did you feel a little left out Tony?" _

"_I mean McGee, I can understand, he's a good guest.I bet he brought a bottle of wine."_

"_And dessert."_

"_Yeah big surprise there, but Palmer…I've had more stimulating conversation with cats."_

"_I like him, and he was very helpful to me."_

"_How?"_

"_He tuned my piano."_

"_I used to play piano."_

"_Not anymore?"_

"_My mother forced me to take lessons from this woman who use to hit me with a ruler every time I made a mistake. Haven't played since."_

"_Were you any good?"_

"_Yes…she was." His tone was flat and strange._

She remembered how she had stared at him for an uneasy moment after the exchange. But hadn't thought of it again since. It had been some years since they were in that shipping container. She wondered at the keys now, what they meant. Were they an ill thought out gift ? And why was Tony so upset about them ? Were they from his old piano teacher ? Why would she send them now ?

Gibbs snapped her out of her thoughts. "Ziva, you and Tim go see Marset's CO. He should be back in town today. See if he knew of anything going on before the suicide." She stood and nodded curtly, but turned back to Gibbs, with that look Gibbs had seen before in regard to Tony.

"Tony-"

"I'll handle it Ziva."

"Yes, but-"

He only needed the glare this time to cut her short.

Tony walked out of the building and down the street towards the coffee house the team frequented. His mind was in turmoil. He knew he was starting to lose it a little when he chuckled darkly to himself. That little red fucking star. He had run out of the bullpen like he was on fire. He felt some guilt over that. He had put his team, his friends through so much with all the secrets and lies he told. Even if he had been following orders...he couldn't blame them if they were suspicious or even angry with him. He knew McGee was a little hot under the collar towards him. And Gibbs was just suspicious most of the time. But he knew it was because they cared. They deserved better than to be shut out or lied to when he hit a tough spot.

_Tough spot huh._ Well this was a little more than that.

It had escalated from disturbing and sickening to terrifying. He was going to have to tell at least Gibbs, if not all of them.

He bought a bottle of water instead of coffee, and sat on a bench outside.

It was chilly out but not too cold for November. He thought back again to a Thanksgiving after his father had returned from yet another business trip.

Senior was feeling happy. The recent trip had yielded a new flush of cash flow into the household. Thanksgiving had arrived and the Anselmos were over. Actually, Mrs. Anselmo had cooked them all the traditional Thanksgiving dinner. The Dinozzos of course, being her husband's biggest client, made her eager to please. She set a beautiful table, using the china and silverware Tony's grandmother had handed down to his mom. Tommy was also there, contentedly playing Atari with Tony. Tony was happy at that moment, because his video game time was kept rather short considering school, and the never-ending hours of piano practice. And then there were the many trips his father took...leaving him with Mr. Anselmo...and the keys…

He asked his father if they could start using the nanny again, since they had more money again, but, Senior didn't think it was necessary since the arrangements with Bobby were working out fine.

They were all called to dinner. Tony sat at the table, and as they began the meal, he started to grow angry. He lost his appetite, and started moving the food around on his plate aimlessly.

"Whatsa matter sport ?" his father asked, a slight slur since he had already been drinking since 10 am. The Anselmos looked on curiously.

"Nothing." he sullenly looked up at Senior.

"Mrs.A made us a nice meal...you don't look so happy. I think it's good."

When Tony gave no response, Senior sighed "Well, to show her your appreciation, we thought maybe you could play some things you've learned recently."

Tony looked down, and then up at Mr. Anselmo. He smiled. It was a knowing, malicious smile. He knew he had to play and play well, or Bobby was going to punish him for it. And he enjoyed punishing Tony.

Tony got nervous. He hated the table and the food, and he hated the Anselmos and even his father. He just wanted his mom back. The meal just seemed like something fake without her. He suddenly felt so alone that he wanted to cry. But his father would have no patience if he cried. Dinozzos didn't cry.

So after dinner, he went with them to the study, and tried so hard to be perfect, but no matter how he tried to control himself he kept tearing up and messing up the notes on the Chopin piece he's been practicing for weeks. He knew his father and Mrs. A couldn't tell. And Tommy was not in the room...he was playing the Atari in the family room. Probably Asteroids.

No, they didn't know the difference, but his teacher surely did.

When Tony finished, they clapped. Except for Mr. Anselmo, who had an all but predatory look on his face...

Tony was startled out of his reverie by a hand on his shoulder and almost dropped the water bottle he was holding.

"Boss !" he blurted out, starting to rise up from the bench. But the hand held firm and Gibbs sat down after making it clear he shouldn't get up.

Gibbs looked at him, the intensity made him feel stripped down and vulnerable.

"Tony,"-

"I know."

"Ok. Then tell me."

"Boss, it's...not that simple...I can't, I mean I just need..."

Gibbs continued to look at him, genuine concern in his eyes. He said softly "We've been through a lot, you and I...and the team. There's nothing you can't tell me. I know this is personal Tony. And I want you to trust me. If someone's threatening you, they threaten us."

Well, there it was. Direct as always. Genuine. Tony wished bitterly his own father had ever had the protective instincts Gibbs had with his team.

"I do trust you, with my life. But this...is just so over the top. I don't really even know where to begin...but I need to tell you. I will tell you…and I might need your help..." he smiled, "again." He took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "But I need a bit longer than we have now..."

"Okay, Tony. Tonight, my place." Gibbs stood up and added "Bring beer. Or bourbon. And bring those packages you got – in evidence bags. Let's talk and tomorrow we can give them to Abby." The last part was firm.

Tony swallowed hard, the enormity of what he'd set in motion with Gibbs hit him. He stood up but felt dizzy again. He swayed for a moment.

"Easy, Tony," Gibbs said gently while steadying him. He knew Tony was sleep deprived by the way he looked when he came in...and was getting torn up over whatever this was. No matter though - he was determined he would help make it right again for this man, who was almost like a son to him. "Its gonna be okay. Let's just get back to the office." When he saw Tony was steady, he let go and they both headed back.

But Tony knew it was far from okay.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony had to admit to himself, he felt very apprehensive about going home that night from the office.

He was quiet, trying to play in his head how to recount all of the details to Gibbs. Well, not all. He wasn't going to dwell where he didn't have to. The closest he ever came to telling anyone besides his dad was Ziva, ages ago, in the shipping container. And he's screwed that up because he'd lied anyway after getting nervous to say more. He wondered what she'd say, how she'd look at him if – no when, when she knew the truth. He sighed to himself.

The Marset case was coming to a close. Ziva and McGee had wrapped up their reports and handed them to Tony for final review. Before they headed for the elevator, they both stopped to uncomfortably shuffle feet in front of his desk. Two sets of eyes looking at him intently.

He had to laugh. "I'm okay. Now will you go home so I can get some superglueing done here?"

McGee's face suddenly went from concern to irritation. "Tony, you better be talking Ziva's desk this time! I can't keep ordering keyboards or pens every time you rekindle your love affair with Gorilla Glue!"

"Relax, McGoo. I've tired of the same old. No, I think a new approach is called for …"

Ziva was laughing at McGee's face, but said, "Come on Tim, lets go home. If it makes you feel better wear gloves tomorrow."

They left, and Tony's smile faded a little from his face when the doors closed on the elevator.

Gibbs had also gone home, predictably getting supplies for a meal on the way. Gibbs had said to bring beer or bourbon. Bourbon seemed fitting…faster acting. One bottle or two ? He smirked to himself. He had a stash at home, always ready in case they needed some.

He packed up the small plastic evidence bags with the envelopes, keys and note in them, and put them in his backpack. He sucked in a shaky breath. He left the finished Marset reports on Gibbs' desk, and left to run some errands before going over to his mentor's house.

It was eight. Gibbs figured Tony would be along momentarily. It was the usual time whenever they had these impromtu dinners at his house. He hadn't even looked at the boat tonight, though he wanted to try and fit in a little time…it always relaxed him. Helped him empty his head of all the overflowing thoughts and stress…worry.

But he had too many things to do before Dinozzo stopped by.

He didn't know what enemy was after Tony now, but knew it had to be someone from a more personal place in Tony's life. The piano keys…his playing piano that day in the club…he wondered at the subtle anxiety that came from the man that day.

He still recalled how shocked he was to walk into that room, not to see some professional practicing, but Tony himself, making the incredible sounds come from the instrument.

He smiled again at how he never stopped being surprised by Tony.

He had the steaks marinating. Fireplace going. He wondered, would he really need to ply DInozzo with alcohol for this one ? Maybe after everything that happened this past year, Tony could take a shot at just coming out with it. But he also knew, on a deeper level, Tony had a conflict with his rather large emotions and putting on a good show. It was easier for him to deflect. Smoke and mirrors.

His cell phone brought him back to awareness.

He picked it up.

"_Boss."_ Quiet. Almost strangled sounding. _" I think you need to come to my place instead."_

"You okay Tony ?" he asked in a low growl.

"_Just…come over. I'm okay. Just…"_ Tony let out a shaky sigh, _"I need you to see something."_

Gibbs had broken, probably light speed in getting to Tony's apartment.

When he got there, the door was open. He cautiously pushed it wider to see his SFA on his couch, Sig on the coffee table in front of him and staring at the wall opposite the front door.

On that wall in black paint, which had obviously been thrown all over Tony's belongings as well, were the words "My Good Boy", messy, dripping, still somewhat wet.

He could see Tony was shaking. He wasn't sure the man knew he was there until he murmured "Hi Boss."

Not wanting to touch too much for evidence's sake, Gibbs just walked over and stood next to him. He gently took Tony by the shoulder, "Come on – let's leave this and talk in the kitchen, unless that's been messed with too."

Tony stood slowly and looked at him, green eyes filled with sadness "No…I don't think in there…" Then he looked around at his livingroom, dvd collection and most everything else ruined with the black paint. Pictures of he and his team, he and his Dad and he and Gibbs…the few he had on top of his TV cabinet – had been ripped out of the frames, and cut into pieces on the floor. He knew Tony had come in, and cleared the apartment. Whoever did this, was gone now.

"Come on," Gibbs said gently, pulling him to the small kitchen. He saw Tony had come in, probably to grab the bottle of bourbon that was on the counter.

He reached into the cabinet above Tony's sink and grabbed two coffee mugs. He opened the bourbon, and poured some out for them. He handed Tony one of them.

He took it with shaking hands.

"Thanks," he said. Looking into it absently, while Gibbs sat down.

"Sit." An order. So Tony sat.

Gibbs saw Tony had left his backpack at the door. He got back up for a moment, retrieving one of the evidence bags with the keys in it, and placed it on the table before sitting down again. He had thought, better to do this in a more private environment with Tony, than the office, until he understood what it was about.

Tony was looking everywhere but at him, obviously trying to pull himself together.

Gibbs gently tapped on the table, gaze filled with concern, "_**Now, **_Dinozzo."

He sat up a little straighter, nodding. He took another swallow from the coffee mug, and leaned back in his chair. His fingers playing at the edges up the cup now on the table.

Another shaky breath. He looked Gibbs in the eye and said, "You're not gonna like this, Boss."

"Doesn't matter. What I like or don't like. You matter. You're safety matters. Let's go."

Tony started off in a soft voice. "You remember what we talked about that day…that day I played in the club…"

Gibbs nodded.

"Ah, well, it's a long story, but I'll try to make it short. Though I know you're big on patience, Boss." He smiled wanly, at his own sarcasm. Gibbs didn't react.

"Well, my teacher, his name was Robert Anselmo. He was a music professor at one of the schools my mom did fundraisers for. I guess they must have met at one of the events and my mom thought it was a great idea to start me on piano early. So, she and my father hired him, to come three times a week to our house. The lessons were fun in the beginning from what I remember. Until he started hitting me with a ruler when I got things wrong. And …my parents were ok with that. Somehow he'd convinced them that was the way to do it. It got results…I mean four years old…kind of crazy…

Anyway, my mom and dad were in love with the idea I would maybe have what it took to go pro. And Mr. A told them I did have it. That with a lot of serious work I could really be something…

My parents liked to party a lot. So when Mr. A came to the house, sometimes it doubled as babysitting for them. They left me alone with him. A lot."

He could see Gibbs was tensing, already knowing in a general sense, where this was going.

"It wasn't so bad I guess at that point, he didn't do…too much. Mostly we really did practice a lot.

But then…my mom got sick, very suddenly, and within a few weeks she was dead."

Gibbs was looking at Tony, determined whatever his friend told him, he would not flinch or falter. But inside…he felt the desolation for Tony, and anger at how he had been treated, and how alone he must have felt.

Tony looked at him again for a moment, then back down to the coffee cup and went on.

"It was a bad time, then. My dad…kept drinking, and was mostly either drunk or hungover for most of the day, everyday. And when he was sober – cared about two things ; his business ventures, and my professional music career. In addition there were ups and downs with the cash flow into our house…but that never kept him down long. It just made him more determined to go out and get the next deal."

Tony paused again, and sighed.

"After mom was gone, Mr. A ….got a little more…demanding. Touchy feely. Controlling. Unpleasant. And volunteered to …watch me for my dad when he was away on trips. Which was appealing to my dad because, hey it saved money to leave your son alone for long amounts of time with his fucking pedophile music teacher." Tony's voice became a little angrier at that last bit.

Gibbs was clenching his fists under the table. He wanted to scream at the stupidity of Tony's father not to see this happening, and was sick that tony even had to go through it. But, his face, he kept schooled. Calm. For Tony.

"Anyway," Tony swallowed, "it went on for a few years," his voice was getting slightly hoarse, the pitch up slightly.

A few _years_? Gibbs thought he might not be able to stop himself from breaking something soon.

"He controlled me, mostly with fear…told me he had killed my mother, and would do away with dad too, if I didn't do what he said. "

Gibbs felt like he couldn't breathe, rage coming up in him in waves.

"And so," Tony's voice almost broke then, "I did what he told me. Until…things got out of control. –Well, so out of control that I thought Mr. A …he was gonna kill me. He'd gotten really crazy. And then I refused to play anymore, and had that blow out with my father. I tried to tell him…what was going on…but – he thought it was just my way of getting out of playing. Turns out, military school was the best thing…though I still loved my father, I was relieved he sent me away. It got me away from Bobby."

Tony paused now, looking at Gibbs, his eyes wide, waiting for Gibbs to say…something.

Gibbs could hardly find his voice, and shook his head a little. The last thing Tony would want is pity…so he pushed forward.

"And," the words were husky with his attempt to control his emotions, "these? What do they mean?" He nodded towards the keys.

He could see Tony was starting to shake more violently now, and as much as he wanted to put his arms around him, he knew it was not the best idea right now. This needed to come out. All of it.

Tony was looking around now, eyes up to Gibbs' face and away again.

"_Tony_."

"When my dad went out of town, Mr. A took me to hotels. To…do what he wanted to do…with me. He…called me his good boy." Tony almost choked the last words out. "He would write on the keys after. Sort of like…a memento." Tony looked like he was going to be sick.

His own hands shaking now, Gibbs picked up the one key in the bag. And then pointed to the code SH 102.

Tony looked at it, hauntedly.

"Sheraton, room 102." His voice was hoarse.

Gibbs pointed to the next one. HJ 116.

Tony put his hands down on his lap now, fidgeting. He looked up at Gibbs again. He saw no pity, or recrimination in his friend's eyes, and bravely went on.

"Howard Johnson, room 116." It came out hoarsely again.

Gibbs felt as sick as Tony looked. He wanted to murder this sonofabitch Anselmo. A slow roasting death was even too good for him. He stared down at the keys again. "And this?" Pointing to the red star.

Tony shook so hard now, he thought maybe he would come apart in pieces. He frowned, and looked down at the star…it was becoming blurry in his vision.

His voice broke a little in the middle, becoming a whisper, when he said, "That's when he brought a friend."


	7. Chapter 7

The silence became unbearable. Tony was afraid to look Gibbs in the eye after his last comment.

He was trying to get his breathing under control…but he felt like the room was closing in on him. He stood up suddenly, planning to put some distance between himself and the piano keys, lying on the table…but his vision greyed around him. He tried to catch himself but, his limbs felt like rubber.

Gibbs saw it. He moved quickly, just in time to keep Tony from hitting his head on the table, helping ease his descent to his knees on the kitchen floor. Tony was hyperventilating. He put his one arm around Tony's shoulders, the other holding onto the table, holding them both up at this point.

"Slow down, breathe," he said gently to his friend, who was still trembling violently.

Tony had one hand on the floor and the other on his head, eyes closed and trying to listen to Gibbs. "I…I'm sorry…"

"Don't,-" Gibbs warned.

"I know, I know…not my fault. That's not it," his voice cracking. "I never wanted…for you to – to know … about this…no one was… ever supposed to … know about this" he was gasping and now had both hands over his temple pulling at his hair.

"Dammit Tony," Gibbs said softly, putting both arms around Tony, pulling him in tightly. "It's okay…"

_SO not okay_. Tony took a minute to get himself under control. He knew this was so far from over. Just for a few seconds he went limp in his Boss' arms, allowing himself just a little comfort. But, this was incredibly embarrassing at the same time. And no amount of soap was ever gonna get him to feel clean again.

He pushed away and said thickly "I'm okay." Not looking at Gibbs.

"Tony."

He still didn't look up.

But there was a hand squeezing his shoulder again, as Gibbs said in a steelier voice, "I wanna know where this _dirtbag_ is. You think he's the one doing these things?"

Tony finally looked at Gibbs, whose icy blue eyes were still steadily on him.

"No. Boss, he couldn't be because he's dead." Tony tried to settle down some more.

Gibbs helped him back up to his seat. "And you know this _how_ ?"

Tony snorted now, "I was a cop for quite a stretch before you came along Boss."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Well," he put his hands on the table edge again, fingers restlessly picking at the wood,. He was still a little breathless. "Once I became a cop I decided I would follow up on him. I thought, maybe I should do something about it in case he was hurting someone…some other kid. I just didn't have the stones to face him until then, I guess. But anyway I found out…he'd kidnapped a twelve year old boy, about a year after I went to boarding school. Raped him. Killed him. And went to prison, where he met his just end." Tony ended, sounding hollow, and exhausted.

Gibbs drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"And when…" he looked at Tony trying to contain his anguish at what he was about to ask, "when he brought his friends…do you think you'd remember them ? Would you remember them if you saw them?" He paused, as his stomach twisted, "How many were there?"

Tony's mouth opened slightly to reply, but nothing came out right away. He looked down at the table and took a shuddering breath in. "There were only two that I know of –"

"That you _know_ of ? **What the FUCK** !" Gibbs bolted up from the table as Tony flinched a little. He finally lost it. He started pacing like a caged animal, while Tony struggled to find words to calm him down.

"Please, Boss..."

"NO ! I can't _believe your __**fucking father**_! What kind of man allows this to happen under his nose in his own house ? He looked at Tony and suddenly realized he was making things worse. Tony looked close to throwing up again.

"Jethro…"

That stopped him in mid step. The name. The pleading tone.

Gibbs sat down heavily. He shook his head a little. "I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony nodded and remained silent.

"Please, go on. I won't lose it again. It's just…"

"I know." Tony paused for another moment. "Bobby only had two friends that came to…visit with us. And it was a rare occurrence. And when it happened, he…" he looked nervously at Gibbs again, "he drugged me."

Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment. Tony had come so close, so close to being a statistic. A missing person. They would never have met.

Tony continued as Gibbs opened his eyes. "So I never was totally with it those times, my memories are fuzzy at best. You think it's one of those people? Doing all this? Why? Why would they? I mean, I'm a 43 year old man, not a kid. I'm not their type anymore," he let out a bitter laugh. "Why Boss? Why would someone do this to me now?"

Gibbs sighed. "I dunno Tony. But we're gonna find out. And when we find who's doing this, they're gonna wish they'd never been born."

Tony looked at his friend. The last words had been… as cold as ice. But Tony knew they were true.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony sat at his desk the next day, waiting for the fallout. Gibbs had the team process his apartment the night before, thankfully sending Tony to his place while they did it. Anything pertinent from his place plus the key packages were now down with Abby.

They were dying to ask him questions. Though Tony had said it was okay to tell them, Gibbs had only told them that there was someone with a grudge against Tony, and that the team needed to find out who it was. And soon. He hadn't as of yet, supplied them with any other details. That was a relief. But it was temporary respite. Because if they were going to really help him, they needed to know the truth too, sooner or later.

But right now, he had to figure out a way to tell his father what needed to be done.

They didn't need his permission, but Tony felt he had to give his father some say in what was happening.

_Sorry dad, but we need to dig mom up_. Or, you know, _Mr. A might have offed mom, so we need to dig her up, and take a look at her._

Any way you sliced that one, it came out horror story.

He knew even if it had been true, Anselmo was dead now. What would it change? But Gibbs was right, in the morning when he told him it would always haunt him otherwise, and it was one thing at least he could know for sure.

But dread filled his heart because he knew, once the conversation opened up with his father, there would be no going back. His father would either still be in denial, making Tony feel like crap, or he would believe him finally, and be devastated, and Tony would feel like crap. _Awesome._

He picked up the phone. His heart beat faster as it rang. But, as usual, the voice mail picked up. At the tone he just said, "Dad…its me. Just call me when you get a chance. Bye." And hung up.

He got back to double checking Anselmo's death certificate. It was all on the up. He was gone.

Gibbs and Ziva had gone to talk to the neighbors one more time, to ask if they'd seen anything unusual around Tony's apartment yesterday.

McGee was checking into the P.O. box in Commack, giving Tony smug looks since he had known from the first envelope that something was wrong.

He was considering asking McGee if he wanted to get lunch, in lieu of the actual apology he knew he owed him, when the mail clerk went by, leaving another envelope on Tony's desk.

McGee saw it, and suddenly went from smug to worried. He got up from his desk and came over to Tony, who had one elbow up on the desk, resting his head in his had, with eyes closed.

"Tony?'

He slowly opened his eyes and rubbed at his head. His eyes glued to the envelope, which had landed sender side up, with the little red star on the label.

"Tony?"

Tony sat up and took it in his hand. "It's okay McGee," he said softly, knowing it wasn't. This time, he didn't worry that McGee was watching him open the package.

Three keys. All with hotel codes again, no stars. He got lightheaded just for a moment. There was a note too.

He opened it with McGee reading over his shoulder.

"_Soon, Tony, soon. You'll be my good boy."_

This time he didn't make it to the men's room. He lost his breakfast into the trash basket next to his desk. McGee didn't say a word, he just got some paper towels and a bottle of water right away.

"Thanks, McGee," Tony sighed, after drinking half the bottle of water down.

"Tony," McGee began carefully, "whatever this is…I just want you to know –"

"I know McGee." Tony looked up from his chair and said quietly,"You are a really good friend Tim. And I know I'm… I haven't been. I'm working on it."

Before McGee could reply, Tony's cell rang. The screen said "Ziva", not "Gibbs". That was bad.

"Ziva, what's wrong ?" he asked right away.

"_Tony…it's Gibbs…he told me he'd meet me at the car…the car is still in front of your building, but I can't find him and he's still not answering his phone."_

Tony glanced at McGee who had heard the other end of the conversation and was already at his computer trying to locate Gibbs' cell.

"Hold on Ziva,,,"

"Got it !" said McGee, "Tell her it's about 300 feet north east of her position."

"You got that Ziva ?" Tony barked into the phone, pacing the bullpen now.

"_I'm headed…towards the side of the building Tony, hold on"…_

He knew she had her gun out, ready for trouble if there was any…

He heard some harsh words in Hebrew. His stomach tightened.

"Ziva?"

She replied angrily, with a hint of fear _"I found his phone, Tony, and his wallet, and his gun…"_

Then she followed with, _"Tony…there's blood on the ground. Tony, someone has Gibbs."_


	9. Chapter 9

No one said it of course, but they were all sick with worry. When Tony notified Vance, he kept it as short as possible before he and Mcgee sped to Tony's apartment building, joining Ziva to process the scene.

Suffice to say, Tony had let Vance know that someone was after him, someone linked with his family, and gave him only the briefest version of what was happening as Vance had walked him and McGee to the elevator.

Before the doors closed, Tony could see Vance's look as he pulled the toothpick out of his mouth and said, "He's my friend too, DiNozzo, you keep me updated every step. And we're not done talking."

_Damn. Damn. Damn._ Now the _Toothpick ?_ Was there any way at all this wasn't going in his file ? He suddenly felt guilty, thinking of himself, while Gibbs was out there…likely with someone who was extremely disturbed. If anything happened to Gibss…

_No._ He couldn't go there. He had to keep it together and get Gibbs back before it was too late.

This bastard, whoever he was, was out to hurt Tony. And would also likely try to do it through Gibbs. He'd probably known they were friends as well as partners, since they had gotten intimate enough with Tony's life to vandalize his apartment and destroy his livingroom pictures. Pictures that clearly showed who he cared about in life…

He'd want Tony to suffer… and likely wouldn't kill Gibbs right away. He had to hold on to that. And, not let his emotions cloud his judgement. And he had to protect the rest of his team as well…

Suddenly furious, he slammed his fist against the brick wall, at the side of his apartment building where they were going over the area with a fine tooth comb.

Bricks _hurt_. He suddenly snorted in disgust at himself, but simply turned when he heard his name called.

It was McGee.

"There's nothing, Tony. Just the Boss' things, minus his badge. There was one witness across the street who saw a utility van parked right in front of us here, door side to the building, but no plate…so…I'm guessing Gibbs came out –"

"And the view was blocked by the van, so when they had him, it would have been easy to get him into it without being seen," Tony finished flatly.

McGee nodded. And as Ziva walked back over to them, her shoulders slightly slumped, she looked up at Tony, and said "I have nothing."

He knew without any doubt she felt responsible. But of course, she wasn't. They were all highly trained agents, but no one had things under control every second.

"Tell me again, Ziva, why did he go outside before you ?'

"We were interviewing Mr. Chen, on the third floor. Gibbs got a call, but the reception was not good. He told me to finish the interview, and meet him at the car since most of your other neighbors were not home and we had covered the rest. I…should have gone with him…it was-"

"No."

She looked up at him, her dark eyes filled with remorse, "What if-"

"No. He's still alive." Tony turned and pointed to the little strip of sidewalk at the side of his building, that was flanked by tall hedges on the other side,"That blood stain was not enough to make us think he was badly wounded, Ziva. Odds are, someone smacked him over the head. Otherwise, we'd see a lot more blood, and signs of struggle. No, he was out cold. No way the Boss wouldn't go down without a fight…unless his lights were out. And if he was dead, they wouldn't have taken him. Just killed him right there."

She swallowed harshly, shifting on her feet, and slowly nodded at him.

McGee was looking at her with deeply concerned eyes. "Tony's right," he said softly. "We're gonna find him. He's gonna be okay."

After another pause, Tony pushed himself into action. "Ok, lets get what we have back to Abby. And after that, I need to talk to you guys…about all this. There are some things I think you need to know."

They both looked at him, and McGee said – "You mean other than that your old piano teacher was a pervert and you were lucky you got away from him ?"

"Uh…" Tony was taken off guard. "I…how did you –"

"Tony, _please_." Ziva said gently. "We simply started looking into your background …I saw the piano keys…and remembered something you and I spoke about…once. And that man came up…along with his history. Gibbs did not say it but we found out anyway."

He looked down from her eyes for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed…and ashamed…but relieved in a way.

"You don't have to get into details, Tony, unless you think it's going to help us find Gibbs. But, you don't have to feel-"…McGee faltered, "…we're your friends."

Tony looked up at both of them. They were steadily looking at him. Like Gibbs had. No pity…thank God. Just concern…sincerity.

"Who…anyone else know ?"

McGee and Ziva looked at eachother. It was Ziva that looked up at him. "Yes. Abby knows…and Ducky."

He drew in a shaky breath and looked away from her again. He was going to ask something else, but…Gibbs…what was happening to Gibbs right now? Gibbs couldn't afford them to stand around like this.

"Okay. Okay." He said calmly, but noticed his hands were clammy. "Thanks. But…we need to go now. We need to see Abby. And figure this out. We're losing time."

They both nodded, looking at him for just another moment, before turning to go.


	10. Chapter 10

Burning.

That's what he noticed first. A burning sort of tickle. And then a pounding headache. He was in a chair, but where was the chair ? _Back up, how did I get in this chair?"_

He was interviewing someone…in Tony's apartment building…and then…**shit.**

It was rope. Seriously scratchy rope, around his wrists, tied behind him. He tried to move his legs. No. Not budging. Undoubtedly rope as well.

Now, being a bit more awake, hell, everything hurt. But mostly his head. Which now he knew had been hit with something. His face and neck felt like they had dried crust on them. Undoubtedly blood.

_Great._

He was supposed to be helping Tony…he felt a little panic at the thought. This _had_ to be the sonofabitch after Tony. The implications…were bad for both he and his SFA. He hoped Tony would be able to keep his urge to help Gibbs from getting him killed.

He had to get free before that happened.

He tried to loosen the ropes around his wrists. They burned some more, he grunted with the pain. He could smell that he was in some kind of basement. It was damp, cool…but he couldn't look at anything because of the blindfold. If he looked straight down, he could see just a sliver of his own shirt.

A door opened and he stilled immediately.

He barely heard the footsteps.

"Agent Gibbs," a soft male voice crooned. "I see you're awake. I'm sorry…it may be rather boring for you here since our guest of honor is late. You know who I'm talking about don't you?'

Gibbs frowned but said nothing, waiting .

"Well, I guess I can't expect you to be so talkative. It was rude. What I did today. But …necessary. You are a _very, very_ important part of my plans."

A he felt a hand touch his hair and he pulled back his head. He felt his fury escalating.

"Not in the mood for niceties. Okay. That's alright. It's not really about you anyway. It's about _Tony_."

The way he said Tony's name…it was like venom was pouring from his mouth. Gibbs' stomach was doing flips. He started to feel hotter, sweat beginning from the tension in his body. Was the nausea from the concussion he likely had, or just his reaction to the sickness, emanating from this man ?

Gibbs finally spoke, voice neutral "Who are you?'

There was a pause.

"Well, I probably could tell you…but what fun would there be in that ? I can at _least _give you something to think about while you wait for Tony to join us. Maybe you can figure it out with some hints…"

Gibbs' hands were clenching behind his back.

"We go way back, Tony and I. And I know things about him…well, I've seen things too, that no one else has…"the tone was now that of a reminiscing lover.

"You **SICK **–" Gibbs began but was caught off guard by a slap across his face. He tasted blood, the hit having made him bite his tongue.

"Now, now," the crooning continued. "_Manners. _Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs' breath was ragged. He wanted to get the ropes off and put his hand around the bastard's neck and squeeze til' the life left him.

The man sighed. "Tony and I have so much…catching up to do. And I plan to make it a memorable reunion. Of course, you've probably guessed it. That's why you're here."

Gibbs was beyond boiling.

He whispered in Gibbs' ear, "I'm gonna destroy him, right in front of you, Agent Gibbs, piece by piece, and then I'm gonna kill you, so that can be the last thing he sees before he dies."

Gibbs was panting now. He wanted to scream, He was desperate to get out of the ropes. Blood was trickling down his right wrist as he struggled to free himself. They weren't budging.

He heard a soft chuckle, and the sound of the door closing.

_Oh God, Tony. You can't get caught. Don't get caught. This guy is completely insane._


	11. Chapter 11

When they got back, the sun was already setting. They all went into action, but Tony couldn't shake the terrible feeling he had inside, the urgency…they couldn't lose Gibbs…

"McGee, what did you get on the P.O. box ?" Tony all but barked at him. The P.O. box was a real address, though Tony hadn't thought it would be originally. But…psycho's weren't always smart.

"Belongs to a commercial business in Commack, Long Island. The name is Devon's Repair, L.L.C. The business also has another address at 2245 South Nichols Road. I have a phone number for that address." Then there was a pause.

"McGee-"

"Getting more info on who owns it now Tony."

He turned to Ziva – "What have you got?'

She stood up, and looked at him for a moment, taking the remote from her desk. He raised an eyebrow, and narrowed his eyes at her impatiently.

She walked in front of the view screen. As he stood beside her, Robert Anselmo's picture filled the screen.

He cringed but pushed past it quickly. "Go."

She was looking at him. He ignored it. She looked back and began.

"As we know, Robert Anselmo was convicted in 1981. He seemed to have disciplinary issues while going through his trial, and ended up in Attica, where he was found dead, throat slashed, in the laundry room." She paused for a second, a ghost of a smile crossed her face. Then the screen switched, containing a picture of a 2002 Maryland driver's license belonging to a Russel Stark. Tony shuddered. The face was familiar…but aged …it could have been one of them…

Ziva's dark eyes were burning a hole into him.

"And?"

"And this is Russel Stark, age 64 here, who apparently was a friend of Robert Anselmo. Based on some of the transcripts, he was a character witness for Anselmo during the trial, a friend, in spite of what Anselmo was on trial for."

Ziva was amazing sometimes. _Not just any assassin with a pretty face_, he thought with amusement.

"Where is he now?"

"I am still looking into that." She turned to him, hesitantly putting her hand on his forearm,"Is there…anyone else, or anything else you can remember that would give us connections to Anselmo or the keys?"

She waited patiently for his reply.

He looked away from her. He was breathing a little faster. If he tried to remember it all…he felt like he would lose control of himself, or have some kind of meltdown, right in front of them. He needed to be alone for a while, to see if he really could remember anything of value…

It would have to wait. They had more than one live lead for now. He shook his head, "No." And looked back to her.

She tilted her head very slightly, and said,"Alright. I will keep looking into Stark. But if anyone else comes to mind you will tell me, yes?" She didn't wait for his response. She turned the viewing screen off and went back to her desk.

McGee was waiting quietly. Tony looked at him expectantly.

"Devon Wright lives in Bay Shore, New York. I have the exact address as 449 Mason Avenue. Which is also on Long Island. Mr. Wright has owned the shop for fifteen years, no unusual activity, no criminal record, not even a parking ticket. Devon's Repair is open tomorrow from 8 to 5. I called to see if anyone was there, but they were closed. I also have home and cell numbers for him."

"I need someone there about the P.O. box. I dunno if this is someone working alone, or with a partner. If its just one, he's here, in D.C. So if Wright has an alibi for today, then its not him. But he has to be connected. If it is him, he won't have been in New York today…and has some connection to me or Mr. A…Anselmo…" He trailed off, shifting a little while he thought. "If you see him, I want it to be a surprise. So don't ask questions of any second parties until you get to him first. If he is involved, I don't want him to be tipped off."

"Ziva."

She came and stood next to him at McGee's desk.

"I am afraid…I have nothing. Again. Stark died of a drug overdose in 2003."

Tony shook his head in frustration. So far, the only real lead was Wright. But it didn't feel like it fit…he'd never heard of the man before. Could he have been Anselmo's friend too ?

"McGee, how old is Wright ?"

"Ah…" McGee looked at his screen, "He's 52, Tony."

Well he was too young to have been Anselmo's friend at that point.

He switched gears for a minute -"Any local surveillance on the white van they took Gibbs in ?"

"Give me a sec…" McGee was furiously punching at his keyboard. After a moment, he sat back and sighed, defeatedly. "No. There's a bank on the corner, but they don't have a camera right onto the street, only in the vestibule itself."

Tony let out a long breath while they looked at him.

"I want you two on a chopper to MacArthur airport in the morning – or tonight if you can get it. I will get you the warrant myself by the time you leave tonight. I want you to check out Wright's home and the business. Do not go anywhere alone. If you need backup I'll have the LEO's standing by."

"But you're not coming…" Ziva stated more than asked.

"Because you don't think Gibbs is there," McGee added.

"I don't. I think he's here in D.C. And it won't belong before I hear from that psycho…"

Ziva was frowning angrily at him now "BUT-"

"No," held a hand up. "I need you guys to go because I trust you more than anyone else to figure this out with me. I need to know how that P.O. box was involved, and it may lead us to knowing exactly who is doing this. We can't screw this up."

They were both silent. They knew he was right.

Ziva sighed, and said "But who is going to have your six Tony?"

"Well, normally that would be Gibbs…"he said, without thinking. Then he saw their pained looks. "It's okay. I'll call for backup if I need it. I promise." But who that was…he wasn't sure. He did have other agents he could bring in…but to have to explain the situation again? Then he went back to matters at hand.

"McGee, take your laptop, and you both check in with me at every turn," he said sternly, before picking up the phone to get Judge Pike on the phone. He knew the Judge owed Gibbs…so he figured he wouldn't mind calling in the warrant for them.

He hoped he was playing this right…Gibbs' life was on the line.


	12. Chapter 12

When else could you describe Cyber-Punk as comforting? Tony smiled to himself, as he put the Caf-Pow down, right in front of Abby, who was engrossed in her computer screen.

He was waiting for the usual glee, the greeting of a mega horn type sounding of his name.

But when she looked at him, her eyes were just, wide open, like giant saucers, staring at him. And they were puffy.

This he did not know what to do with.

"Abs…"

Her voice was low, almost gravelly, "Why?"

"Uh…"he wasn't sure what was happening, until he saw her eyes filling with tears. Oh _no_. He closed his own eyes for a moment. How could he be so stupid. Of course…she'd be upset. She _knew_ after all. On top of Gibbs being taken. They all knew now. He should have anticipated this.

He was about to open them when he felt her arms go around him, clutching at him as if keeping him anchored to the floor where he stood. He retuned her embrace, but didn't know what to say to her. Everything was so screwed up.

She spoke slowly into his shoulder, which was even more disturbing, so it was more like a muffled mumble, "I love you so, so, so, so , so much Tony." There was one small hiccup. She was trembling. It broke his heart.

"We're your _friends_ Tony. _I'm_ your friend. Like, a best forever friend. And I never want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me." And at that, she pulled her wet face off his shoulder, looking deeply into his eyes, and repeated clearly, "never."

He swallowed, and looked at her, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"It was a long time ago Abs, and I'm really sorry but…it's just not the kind of thing you like to revisit. Not…really a way to segwey into it with most other conversations. Pass the salt I was molested…"He tried to squeeze just an ounce of air into the uncomfortable moment.

She nodded without smiling and said, "I understand, but you know, you have to trust somebody Tony. How else can anyone really get to know who you are?"

That one stung. Just because, it was true.

He sighed deeply, stepping back from her, and simply gave her a little smile.

"Okay." She said, wiping at her face and pulling herself together."Okay, okay, okay. Back to finding Gibbs. Who better be okay. Better than okay. He better be…fantastic. As in not one hair on his head was touched."

She turned to her equipment.

"Ok, what have you got?" he asked gently.

She sucked in a shaky breath.

"To start with, the blood sample from outside your apartment was Gibbs'. Not exactly a news flash, I know. Just had to…confirm it. For us."

"The paint used at your apartment was a standard brand, available in just about any home improvement center. And there were no other prints at your place…so…"

She slowly turned, pointing at the evidence bags on her table containing the piano keys and notes –"The envelopes themselves are pretty much standard, local drugstore or office supply, as are the printable stickers, which were done on an inkjet printer as opposed to a laser printer, making it more likely that they were done at home. The notes were written on standard paper with no remarkable characteristics, the writing was standard ball point pen. The envelopes themselves had no discernable prints other than postal workers on the route the envelope took from Commack New York to here. But the inside of the envelope, piano keys, and notes had small traces of petrol."

"So, possibly someone who works as a mechanic ?"

"Yes. Or in a repair shop, even if they run the register. Or, they keep their office supplies in their garage. One of those, specifically…or…not so specifically, I guess. Now, the piano keys…"she picked one up in her gloved fingers,"from a classic 1971 Knabe Baby Grand, they have two sets of prints on them. One is a small version, Tony DiNozzo. The other…"

He could tell she could hardly say the name without getting upset. "Anselmo." He said it for her. She nodded.

"Tony, these keys also had a fair amount of dust on them. No one played that piano after you stopped. It must have been kept somewhere, in storage or somewhere that wasn't cleaned often."

He wanted to shoot himself. Or kiss Abby. Or both. Maybe in reverse order. "The keys…"he groaned to himself.

He turned quickly to leave. But then whirled back around to her, kissing her cheek softly. "I'm sorry Abs." He looked in her eyes again, relieved at least to see her smile.

"Don't come back here without Gibbs," she said quietly.

He nodded and left.

He used his phone back at his desk again to try and reach his father.

"Dad…it's me again. Listen, this is an emergency, Dad. Please, please if you can call me. I know this is gonna sound crazy to you, but I need to know what you did with my piano after…I stopped playing. I never saw it in the house over the holidays…so I figured you got rid of it, but it's urgent I know where it is. If you can't reach me call Ziva. I know you kept her cell number." And he hung up. He wondered if his father was even in the country.

He had one more call to make, and then, he had to go get some rest if he could, before the morning when they'd likely get some new information. But he decided to go back to Gibbs' house, so he didn't have to look at the words "My Good Boy" on the wall again. He could make the call from there.


	13. Chapter 13

He was apologizing again.

This time to Ducky. And over the phone, from Gibbs' house.

"_It's alright my boy, I know this has got to be quite harrowing for you, and that you're doing whatever you can to find Jethro."_

"Yes, well, it's been a harrowing year. Why stop the trend now," he said bitterly. "I guess you've noticed the protection detail I sent to your house ?"

"_Yes. Thank you. I am sure it's unnecessary, but, I appreciate you want to keep us safe."_

"Yeah, I've got one at Palmer's, and here, while I'm at Gibbs' house. Abby refused to leave the lab until we find Gibbs….so she's sleeping there. I put someone outside the lab anyway. But I don't think he's gonna look to get at anyone else right now."

"_No…no one else but __**you**__, Tony. From what you've told me and what Timothy filled me in on earlier, I feel optimistic that Jethro is still alive. And I would also predict, unharmed. But Tony…Jethro is a means to and end…his next move is to torment you somehow with Jethro's captivity. And Jethro may not be alright for long…I believe you are in serious danger. This person, they are mad with hatred for you. I am worried about-"_

"I know Ducky. I know. I am sorry too, that I didn't come down to see you earlier …"

"_Oh no Tony, please don't concern yourself with that. Abby and I talked with Ziva and Timothy earlier, and I know you've been frantic trying to get a handle on this situation, to figure out where this bastard is and where he's got Jethro. Can I help in any way? I wish there was something I could do… Would you like me to come to the house and go over some of the information with you?"_

Tony thought about it for a moment. It would be so comforting to have Ducky around. But in the state he was in, he's be asleep before Ducky got there. "No, Duck, I just need to get a quick 2 hours or 3 of sleep. I'm having trouble focusing. And tomorrow might get us to Gibbs. So, I should be in about 5 am. If you want, we can talk then."

"_Alright Tony. Please do get a little rest. It's only a few hours and I know we will find him."_

"Thanks Duck. G'nite."

He hung up. He probably should have slept on his desk in the office. But he need to retreat. So he'd forwarded his desk phone to his cell. Just for a couple of hours he needed to be where no one would be looking at him. He was sick to his stomach with worry. "How do I do this without you?" he said, to the empty house. He was so bone tired. Being at Gibbs' place made him feel a tiny bit more together. The familiar smells, the furniture they'd had many times sat on and just talked until the "ass crack of dawn" as Gibbs called it.

He thought about how Gibbs had reacted when he told him about the keys…he never wavered once. Tony knew that they'd been in tough spots before, both of them. But he was off kilter now…he'd been fighting the memories off all day long. There was almost no escape from all the stress…he was worried that he would miss something this time, that he wouldn't see clearly. And that it would get Gibbs killed.

Where was he ? What was he going through right now ? Tony shivered, curling up a little on the leather couch in Gibbs' livingroom. "I'm so sorry Boss, " he said to himself softly,"this is all my fault."

He could almost feel the headsmack Gibbs would give him for saying it. But it was true. The only reason Gibbs was missing was because some sick bastard wanted to get to Tony.

Tony felt so alone. Again. He remembered the feeling, not that he hadn't felt it since, but, it was so intense after his mom died. It was like a terrible ache in his body…physical as well as emotional. And that sick fuck Anselmo had taken advantage of it…of him…

He was shaking again, and gasping a bit, but there was no one here to tell him it would be okay. He leaned over, putting his feet back on the floor, and as he put his head in his hand, the tears he didn't think he'd needed to cry came quietly, spilling down his face.


	14. Chapter 14

_He was on a stage. It was an auditorium. But there were no people in the seats. It was cold. And there wasn't much light except for a floor lamp next to him…it was the floor lamp from his father's study. He was sitting at the piano, playing...it was so beautiful...the music...he felt it flowing through him. It wasn't a tune he had learned, but it flowed out none the less. As he played, he closed his eyes, drifting...he was lost in it. Then, he felt them...the hands both stroking his arms while he played. "My good boy," the voice whispered in his ear from behind. He felt his heart start to race, panic threatened to suffocate him, but he kept playing. If he kept playing...maybe the frightening presence would retreat._

_In a flash, the music was changing...becoming ugly and disjointed...he forgot what he was doing as he felt the hands go from his arms to his shoulders, moving, stroking him...he couldn't breathe. Suddenly he was in a hotel room, with yellow walls and plain wooden furniture. Bobby was breathing heavily in his ear, holding him as he struggled to get away..."You want to save him, don't you?" He noticed was naked now, the terror intensifying. Bobby's erection was rubbing against his leg, his back. "You don't want Gibbs to die, do you?"_

_"No...no, please..."he choked out._

_The hands stroking his back went up to his neck again. He felt them squeeze so tightly he couldn't get any air at all and clawed at them in desperation. He didn't want to die like this._

_"That's right. You'll do as your told," Bobby said, thrusting into him._

Tony screamed.

He sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, the nightmare still echoing in his head. And there was a noise...it was his cell phone.

He lunged for it, blood still pounding in his ears. "Hello?" he said, wondering how long he'd been asleep.

"_Tony_."

He didn't know the voice at all. His heart still thudding from the nightmare.

"Who is this?"

"_Oh...a fan. Of yours. For many years."_

"Where is Gibbs ?"

_"Would you like to see him ?"_

"WHERE IS HE ?" Tony knew he needed to reign himself in.

_"I see you have guards in front of Gibbs' house." _

Oh God. Where was he ? Watching from outside ?

_"If you would be so kind as to tell them to leave...I will be more than happy to discuss the terms of agent Gibbs' safety."_

"OK, let me call them," Tony said...quickly formulating a plan.

_"Oh, no, Tony, you will not hang up this phone. Leave it on, in the house, and come out yourself to dismiss them."_

Shit. He knew what Tony was going to do. But now he couldn't take chances.

" How do I know you have Gibbs, and if so, that he's alive ?"

Silence. And a text message came in on his phone.

_"Take a look."_

Tony held the phone away from his face, hands shaking, and pressed the button to open the text. A picture was attached. As it downloaded he could make out the image of Gibbs...tied to a chair, blindfolded, with blood stains on the collar and upper right part of his shirt.

He snapped the phone back up.

"You don't **touch **him. You don't touch him again or I swear, I will kill you in the most painful way I can," it came from Tony in a low menacing growl.

_"Oh now, I've been very civil with him really."_

"How do I know he's even still alive ?"

_"You'll have to take my word for it, Agent DiNozzo."_

Tony hesitated a moment, trying to figure out how to alert the protection detail without giving it away.

_"Oh and Tony, I am in earshot. I will hear what you say. If you tip them off in any way, I won't be on the line, and tomorrow you will find Gibbs' body down by the docks."_

Tony clenched his teeth for a moment in anger.

"Fine."

He put the phone on the table, and slipped his shoes on. He took his Sig with him, in the back if his jeans. After all, he wasn't told to leave it.

He trotted out to the dark street, and tapped on the car window and agent Compton lowered the window.

"Everything ok DiNozzo ?" Compton asked, on alert.

"Oh fine, Compton. Turns out they got the guy. And Gibbs is on his way back now, so you can call it and go back to the good wife tonite."

"Oh hey, that's great Tony ! Glad to hear Gibbs is ok. I'd tell him myself but I owe him fifty bucks." He laughed.

Tony smiled. "Ok, then, goodnight. Goodnight Vasquez," Tony added to the other agent, who nodded in response.

Compton started the car but turned again to Tony, "Hey, you sure you're okay ? Why didn't you just call us ?"

"I wanted you to see that I was okay. That's it."

Compton nodded. "Ok Tony. Later." he waved once and the car rolled away. Tony was on alert, wondering what shadow his faceless enemy was hiding in. He wondered if this was how Mike Franks felt the night he left Gibbs' for the last time.

He stood for a moment on the silent street, and then turned and walked back into the house. He locked the door behind him.

He picked up the phone, still in call on the table.

"Hello?"

_"Very well done Tony. I appreciate your obedience."_

Tony sickened at the word. And the tone.

He paced into the kitchen.

"What's next ?"

"This," a voice said, but it wasn't from the phone.

Before he could react, a hand clamped a sweet smelling cloth over his face and the phone went clattering to the floor as an arm went around his neck. As he tried to slam his attacker against the wall, all the magnets and papers flew off the fridgerator behind them. He couldn't get the cloth away, but continued to struggle. He realized, as his body started to weaken, that he was going to lose consciousness.

As everything started to go dark, he heard the words "I've waited a long time for this."


	15. Chapter 15

Ziva and McGee were crossing the street at 7 am in front of Devon's Repair shop, in Commack, when her phone rang.

She looked at the caller I.D., it was Vance.

"Yes Director."

"_Agent David, we believe agent DiNozzo is missing." Her heart sunk. "Have you heard from him at all this morning?"_

"No, Director, but I was just about to call him and tell him we were at the business place of Devon Wright. Wright was not home, but we think we may have missed him on his way out to work. We have our warrant, so everything is in order to search all his properties."

"_I am aware of that, agent David, I spoke to DiNozzo last night before he left the office. Dr. Mallard called me at 05:30 because agent DiNozzo said he would be in earlier and isn't answering his cell. I sent our people to Gibbs' house…and they reported signs of struggle. They found Tony's phone, so, it's coming back to the office to see what we can get from it."_

"What happened to the protection detail ?" McGee eyed her anxiously when she said it.

"_Just got off the phone with Compton…Tony sent them home at 04:20 hours."_

Ziva felt a chill run through her.

"He forced Tony to do that somehow. We've got to find them. Now."

"_Inform me immediately if you get any information."_

"Yes sir."

"_And David…be careful."_

She hung up, grief overcoming her features for a moment. McGee was staring at her, breathing a little quickly. A look of determination came into his eyes.

"Come on," he said, turning to the shop. "We're gonna find them."

Gibbs was awakened by the sound of the door opening again. He had struggled with the ropes, much of the night, but was tired and thirsty, and fell into a fitful sleep.

His shoulders ached badly and his hands were half numb. He figured that the ropes were double enforced, so not only were his wrists tied, they were also knotted to the bottom of the chair by another rope.

As he quickly tried to get his wits about him, he noticed that there was a dragging sound across the floor in front of him.

"Ah'" his captor grunted while obviously trying to lift and pull something,"you're awake agent Gibbs. Just in time." He was breathing heavily with exertion, and Gibbs heard a sound that froze him inside. He knew it so well, a body dropping to the floor.

_Oh, no, no, no…._

"Our guest of honor is heavier than he looks…"

Gibbs was frantic to see if Tony was okay. "**Tony** !"

No response.

"He's still napping, so…probably not going to be stimulating conversation for a bit yet. I wonder….what shall we do first ?"he was still breathing a bit heavily.

There was silence for a moment.

"Oh, where are my manners, agent Gibbs." He felt the blindfold being removed.

At first, things were just dark and blurry. He blinked several times as his sight adjusted.

Then he saw the still form lying on the ground. "Tony ?" he called out again.

Tony was pale, and his eyelashes stood out against his skin. There was a piece of duct tape over his mouth. His hands were tied in front of him, with the accursed scratchy rope, as well as his feet. Gibbs could see the slight rise and fall of his chest…at least he was alive. His sweater was dirty and slightly torn from being partly dragged in.

He struggled to even out his own breathing as he now took in what was in the room with them. It was a warehouse basement. He knew the building type. They were down near the docks. There were two small windows up high near the ground level above, letting in just a bit of natural light. Past the metal beams and pipes that lined the room, he could make out…his breath caught for a moment as he took it in…

At the far the wall, in front of him, were two spaced beams, with chains wrapped around them, held together with padlocks. As his fear for Tony grew, he looked to his left and took in the presence of the 1971 Knabe Baby Grand piano.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. _Is this really happening ? What the hell is going on here ?_

A voice from behind him said. "I've been planning this for quite some time, and Tony is going to get the finale he deserves."

"Why ?" Gibbs ground out at him. "Just tell me, why are you doing this to him?"

He felt sick, and looked back to Tony, who let out a small moan from the floor, still unconscious.

The figure stepped around him, finally coming into view.

"Because, he took _everything_ from me," the man hissed.

Gibbs looked up, and had no idea who this man was.


	16. Chapter 16

The sweaty man in his grease stained tee shirt looked at them both as if he hadn't understood at all what they said.

"Come again?" He said, confused. He had 2 days of stubble on his face, messy brown hair peppered with grey. He had crows lines embedded deeply around his eyes.

They were sitting in his small office, messy, covered with grease stained paperwork. A half eaten breakfast sandwich sat on his desk.

He had seen their badges and let them in right away, concerned but not panicked.

"We need to know where you were yesterday, Mr. Wright," Ziva said coldly, eyeing him.

"I was here. Like I am, almost every day of the year. Why ? What's this about ?"

"And can you prove you were here yesterday ?" McGee asked, calmly, but eyes intent on the man's face, trying to detect subterfuge.

"Uh, sure I can. At least eight customers came in to drop off cars. And I had deliveries from Sure-Snap. And two people came in to schedule service for later this week. I was here from 6:30 am til about 5 pm, when we close up."

McGee sighed. He looked at Ziva. He was telling the truth.

Changing tactics, McGee showed him a picture of Tony. "Do you know who this is ?"

The man eyed the picture. "No idea."

"Mr. Wright," Ziva began, "do you have a P.O. box at the office ?"

"Well, yeah. But what –"

"What do you use it for if you have a home and a business address ?" She asked evenly.

"Well, I'm here so much of the time…sometimes I order…things online, that I don't want sitting on my doorstep, and definitely don't want delivered here where I have my son and a few other people working."

Tim looked at Ziva, raising his eyebrow. _Porn_, he thought with a small amusement. _Tony would have totally jumoed on that to make some kind of joke…_

"Does anyone else have access to your P.O. box, mr. Wright ?" McGee asked, shifting in his seat a bit.

"Just my son…listen, what is this about ?"

"What is your son's name ?"

"Jeffrey. Jeff. Is he in trouble ? He's a good kid –"

As they were sitting there, his bay bell rang.

"Can you – just excuse me for one moment to help this customer ?"

"Sure. Go ahead. We can continue after," Ziva said, almost as a command.

Just to be sure he didn't go anywhere, they followed him to the front of the shop.

McGee paced as Ziva watched Wright take his customer's keys.

"_Ziva."_

She turned at his quietly urgent tone.

"Look out here…"he glanced at her as he pointed to the right side of the lot that was visible from the window. They'd been so intent on talking to Wright, they hadn't noticed the several white commercial vans, parked among the cars.

_There are no coincidences_, Ziva thought, hearing Gibbs' voice in her head.

The customer was walking out as Ziva got in his face.

"Why do you have so many white vans in your lot Mr. Wright?" he backed away from her as she clipped the words at him.

Again, the man looked confused.

"We rent them out sometimes to people, some of my customers need them for small moves and such."

McGee now cornered him too.

"Are they all here ?" McGee asked him tensely. "Are any out now and was one out yesterday ?"

He was getting agitated. "Listen, don't you think you should tell me-"

"**NOW** Mr. Wright. **Answer the question**," Ziva's tone was steely.

"They're all here," he quipped. "Except one. My son has it."

"Where can we find him ?" McGee shot out next.

"Well he should be in any minute, but I can call him if you want."

"Was he here yesterday ?"

"Yes."

"Was the van ?"

"No. But he'd had it out for the last couple weeks…sometimes he does electrical work on the side…"

"But he's been in most days ?"McGee knew they were so close…

"Yes, the last ten days we've been swamped so he's been in with me every day, even Sunday.'

They couldn't be sure he was lying or not.

"Hey pop !" A cheerful voice called as the young Mr. Wright walked into the shop.

He was a young version of his father, still a bit grimy looking in his work clothes. He slowed and took in the two people who seemed a bit too close to his father.

"What's going on ?" he asked worriedly.

"Jeff, these people are Federal Agents…they're asking about the van you borrowed."

Ziva got ready to pull her gun, in case he ran. Mcgee inched his way to block the door.

The younger man looked down. "Uh…I shoulda told you pop…" he looked away guiltily.

"_What_ should you have told me ?" His father asked, now getting upset.

He shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. "You know, I just felt… bad for him. That guy we had helping out at the shop here. He seemed so smart, educated. And his life was shit. I know you fired him cos he sucked, but I felt bad for him pop…he had a lot of problems…but…anyway he asked to borrow the van to work a job he got…so I loaned it to him…"

They were all silent for his next revelation.

"You know, Tommy, Tommy Anselmo."


	17. Chapter 17

Tony was coming around slowly. He was dizzy, and felt sick, and he could hear someone far away yelling…

Gibbs shook with fury. The sick bastard had untied Tony and was taking his sweater off, after having removed his shoes.

"You won't get away with this !" Gibbs fumed at him. But he just kept humming to himself happily.

"What the hell did he do to make you think this is okay ?" No response…just the humming. It was driving him mad.

"Wahtsa matter ? DiNozzo sleep with your _mommy_ ?" Gibbs asked snarkily, hoping to get some response out of the man.

He did.

The blonde blue eyed man looked up at Gibbs. "No. Not my mommy." And then smiled.

_Oh my God_, he thought, _Tommy Anselmo._

"Tommy," Gibbs said, trying another approach, as Tony's tee shirt was ripped off his limp form, his head lolling back,"You don't have to do this. It wasn't your fault."

That got him another look. Good. _Better focusing on me than DiNozzo._

He let Tony slump back on the floor and stood up suddenly, glaring at Gibbs.

"What's not my fault agent Gibbs ?" he was oddly calm, with his head tilted.

"That your dad was a pervert." That earned him a solid punch in the face, almost knocking him and the chair over.

Tommy was at least as tall as Gibbs, and though wiry, had some serious strength. Crazy people always did.

He shook it off. He was going to continue to antagonize him, but now he couldn't see where Tommy had gone…he heard something like rifling through a bag, the sounds of zippers…

"You are a rather unruly guest, Gibbs. I think you should just relax a bit." And with that he felt the hand in his hair locking his head into place while a needle plunged into his neck. He flinched but couldn't escape the injection.

"What the hell is that?"he growled out.

"Just something to cool you off, but, no worries. You should be more alert in just a short while for the entertainment part of this reunion."

Gibbs' heart sank. He felt so helpless. He had some idea what Tommy had planned…and he wanted to stay alert, to figure out some way of buying time…distracting him…but he suddenly had trouble keeping his eyes open. He fought to stay awake and say something else but his mouth seemed not to want to work at all.

Tony was coming around, but confused. He was disoriented, and someone kept turning him around…moving him…taking his clothes off…and occasionally stroking his face. He knew this was not right…that he should stop it, but his body just wasn't responding yet.

He moaned again softly, but started to become aware of the duct tape over his mouth. He started to try and move his limbs weakly…

"Don't worry Tony, you're going to be the star of the show now. Center of attention. Like you always have it…" it was almost a whisper.

Whose voice was that ?

He felt his body being lifted up a bit, and then laid back down on the cold hard surface below him. He was on his stomach. And he shivered from the contact of the damp floor.

He suddenly realized what was happening. His eyes flew open, heart racing and panicked as his hands were raised above his head and cuffed to chains wrapped around some kind of beam. He struggled to breathe through his nose since the tape allowed no air through his mouth. He looked back by his feet as a blonde man with shaggy hair was tying rope around his ankle. He tried to pull away and kicked at the man, but he was still weak from the effects of the chloroform.

The man grabbed his ankle and turned to look at him…

_Oh my God,_ he thought…_Tommy…_

He knew the eyes, and the set of the brows…

Tommy saw the look of recognition, and smiled at him. Menacingly. "I'm so flattered. You remember me." He turned and continued his work, securing Tony's ankle to another beam.

He tried to move his other leg, but it had already been secured to a pipe nearer to the wall. Tony started to tremble with fear now, adrenaline kicking in, as he realized he was naked, spread out on the floor. He gained some strength, born of desperation and struggled against the cuffs and chains and rope…

Tommy chuckled.

He stopped struggling for a moment looking around desperately at the room, and saw Gibbs slumped in his bonds in the chair, unmoving.

He tried to call out to Gibbs, but the tape…he was only making muffled sounds that apparently Gibbs couldn't hear. What the hell had he done to Gibbs ? A new wave of anger had him fighting his bonds again, while Tommy stood back for a moment, enjoying Tony's struggle.

"You know," he said smoothly,"you were a little prettier when we were kids."

Tony's heart was pounding at the strange choice of words, stilling himself again to listen to what Tommy was saying.

"I used to watch how my father fawned all over you. Precious Tony. Talented Tony. Gifted. Yes, that was the word, gifted." He leaned down looking into Tony's eyes. His pupils were dilated. Tony shuddered, feeling Tommy was like a large cat, about to eat it's prey.

Tommy put out a hand, trailing it down his back and over his buttocks, to his thighs.

Tony made a strangled sound in his throat. _No…no, this can't be happening…_

"I saw you, you know. Several times when I was supposed to be outside playing…I spied on you and my dad in the study."

Tony felt sick. But the tape over his mouth…he had to control his urge to vomit.

"You and my dad had something special going on…I saw him touching you…all the attention he gave you…never me. Never me, Tony. He was my father. But all he thought about was you. And the keys." Fingers were drifting down between Tony's thighs.

He started to breathe more heavily, struggling to get air again because of the tape.

"And because of you, he lost everything. And my mom and I lost everything. You think that's fair Tony ?" A finger played at his entrance. He tried to twist his body away, but couldn't get far, and the cement ripped and burned the front of his legs.

"Ah-ah, Tony. There's no getting out of it. I think since you're such a whore, it's fitting that I get a taste too before your finale."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment trying desperately to calm down He was getting lightheaded from the lack of air.

Tommy stood up and started to take his shoes off.

Tony was struggling again. The cuffs now starting to chafe the flesh on his wrists.

Tommy was humming. As he saw Tommy's pants slide to the floor out of the corner of his eye, he felt the tremors in his body intensify…the fear overwhelming him. _Please not this…I can't go through this again_…he prayed in his mind.

He heard Gibbs moan and shift slightly and looked at him, but his eyes were still closed._ Gibbs…Oh God…please be ok.._.

He felt Tommy straddle his legs, touching the back of his thighs. He tried to buck him off, scraping his legs and elbows again on the cement.

Tommy said nothing. But he leaned forward and grabbed Tony's hair, yanking his head back violently, and said "Now, now, you know how to do this…be a good boy for me." It was pure poison, the tone filled with malicious rage. Tony let out a muffled sob, and tears started to accumulate in his eyes.

He felt Tommy lean back, keeping one hand where it was in Tony's hair. And then as his weight shifted back, Tony felt a sharp sting in his neck.

"Just a little something I like to share with all the guests." Tony knew it was a sedative of some kind…but not enough sadly, to knock him out.

Tommy let go of his head, and pulled off the duct tape.

Tony took several deep shuddering breaths.

He felt himself getting warmer, but a little fuzzy again…

"Please Tommy," he said through his parched lips,"don't do this. You were my best friend, Tommy, my only friend…"

Tommy stroked his back almost tenderly, but then leaned in to Tony's ear and whispered "Good, good boy."

Tony closed his eyes again in despair, but they flew open, when he felt the stab of pain as Tommy's hard member pushed into him. He let out a half sob, half scream, and the tears were now flowing down his cheeks. "Stop…Tommy…" his breath was hitching wildly.

Once he was fully engulfed in Tony's body, he stilled just for a moment. He groaned in pleasure at the man's pain.

He leaned down over Tonys shoulder, and started thrusting, planting his mouth at the back of Tony's neck , biting down while Tony wept in agony.

Tommy was enjoying every second of the man's pain.

It seemed to go on forever, to Tony.

It seemed like a nightmare that went on, in layers, of fear and pain. He blacked out several times, and his confused mind almost shut itself down completely.

Tony was drenched in sweat. His wrists raw from twisting in the cuffs. Tommy surveyed the bite marks he'd left on Tony's back and shoulders. Two in particular had been deep, breaking the skin in spots. Some blood had trickled down from them, and from the place their bodies were linked. It was pooling on the floor at a few points. Tony had screamed at first when one of the deeper bites occurred, but became quiet ...and then fell into a stupor, his eyes unfocused.

"I never want this to end, Tony..." he sighed in his ear.

He wasn't into men. Never had been. But this wasn't about sex. This was about so much more. It was too good.

He slowed himself, staving off orgasm. He reached for the length of chain he'd left to his right, and leaned forward to loop it around Tonys neck. He thought it a fitting touch to his plans, to do things that would remind Tony of his father. Tommy had knew how his father killed that boy, the one he knew looked a lot like Tony...he had been in court, sitting next to his mother when he found out.

Tommy suffered for years after his father became obsessed with Tony. His mother abandoned him for the bottle, he couldn't hold down a job, and generally everything he touched turned to shit. But at the bottom of all of it, was Tony. Revenge had become the only thing he lived for.

Tony felt the cold metal chain wrap around his neck, and somewhere in his mind an alarm went of. He struggled as best he could again, though his limbs were still sluggish.

"No!" he breathed out. The metal of the chains and cuffs, clanking as he pulled at them. He didn't want to die this way…

"Nnn-"he barely got out, before the chain tightened, cutting off his air.

Tommy smiled, doubling the chain around his one arm while he leant on the other. He was grateful now for the last few jobs he had, which required brawn rather than brains.

For just a moment, he was still, watching Tony struggle to breathe, he felt the urge to kill him then...but, that would not be as enjoyable as the plan he had...

So he let the excitement take him, pulling at the chain with all his strength as he renewed his thrusts, and went wild for just a few seconds. He had the man under him half off the floor as he screamed out his orgasm, tears of relief coming from his own eyes.

As he collapsed down on top of his violently shaking victim, he released the chain, and Tony was immediately coughing, body convulsing with the need to get in as much air as possible.

He laughed as he leaned back, panting. He looked over to Gibbs. He'd hoped Gibbs would be awake for this but...He would be soon, for the second part of his reunion party.

Tony was still coughing a bit on the floor, his eyes pinched closed in pain.

Tommy gently stroked Tony's face again, but Tony gave no other response.

"Well, let's get cleaned up here, you have a performance to give, and we can't have you dressed like that," he purred it out, like a Cheshire Cat.


	18. Chapter 18

Ziva and McGee were back at the navy yard after the flight back.

The Wrights provided them with the plate number on the van, and a BOLO was put out before they left the repair shop.

In addition, they got more information on Thomas Anselmo, who had gone into foster care two years after his father's death. Apparently, his mother turned to alcohol, to bury the pain of her husband's wrongs.

It seemed Anselmo had managed to get through high school, and almost made it through two years of medical school when he discovered heroin. The rest was a sad story of half-way houses, failed job attempts, and a failed marriage.

Had the last job loss been the breaking point ? Had he been planning for years ?

They knew he blamed Tony, in an irrational and twisted way, and his behavior was psychopathic. They feared what their friends were suffering now at his hands…if they were even still alive.

Ziva, McGee, and Vance were in Abbys lab. She had the picture from Tony's phone up on her screen.

They were all shaken, to see Gibbs bound and blindfolded in a chair.

Abby took a shaky breath, "If I clean up the picture, adjust the contrast, you can see a bit of the wall and door behind the chair..."

McGee squinted a little,"Are those...vertical pipes along the wall ?"

"Yes. And if you can see also, the walls and floor are the same color, as when you-"

"Paint a basement," Vance finished for Abby.

She nodded affirmatively. "The phone that called Tony's was a disposable, and the signal stopped at Gibbs' house after he took Tony..." they could hear the slight waver in her voice.

"They have to be local, since he did all this in less than 24 hours and likely wouldn't want to have far to travel," McGee said softly.

"Any idea what kind of color that room really is ?" Vance questioned Abby.

"Actually, if I punch up the contrast some more..." she adjusted the screen," so that I have Gibbs' skin tone about where it would actually be..." the image lightened to a battleship grey in the background," it would look like this in daylight."

They all thought it about the same time, but Ziva said " It looks like the color of the inside of one of those warehouses, down by the docks."

" McGee-" Vance began but the probie was already on the move.

" Adding eyes down in the warehouse district, Director."

Vance also turned to leave as his said "Nice work Ms. Sciuto."

She didn't smile but turned to Ziva, her delicate hands nervously playing at her lab coat edges.

"Tell me."

" We will find them Abby," Ziva said gently, putting a hand on Abby's shoulder. " And Tony and Gibbs will both be okay." _They had to be._


	19. Chapter 19

Gibbs thought maybe he'd been dreaming. Or having a nightmare. He thought he heard someone crying, brokenly begging...something...and the sound of metal clanking...

He was coming back to his senses, still sleepy.

But now it was quiet.

He opened his eyes slowly, a little dazed, but then quickly picked his head up as he remembered what happened before.

"Tony," he called out, in a raspy croak...he was so thirsty.

He saw his friend, hunched with his legs pulled up to his chest against the wall, fully clothed.

He was confused. He remembered…Tommy had taken off some of Tony's clothes before…"Tony ?"

Tony was shivering, ends of damp hair clinging to his pale face, and his head was leaning against the wall, turned away from Gibbs.

Where was Tommy ? Tony wasn't bound...why wasn't he moving?

"Hey! DiNozzo ! " he barked, as loud as his dry throat would allow.

Tony flinched, but didn't look at him, or move away from the wall. Gibbs frowned now, a knot growing in his gut. Something was very, very wrong.

He looked to the right of Tony's position, to the beams where the chains had been, and was sickened by what he saw. The chains were still there, but in addition strewn around were open handcuffs, some rope, and a strange pattern of dark stains on the floor...blood stains...

The desperate pleading he heard in his sleep...had been Tony being tortured, maybe even sexually assaulted by this monster.

Gibbs closed his eyes, swallowing back what threatened to come up from his stomach.

" God..." he whispered to himself.

He realized Tony must be in shock, and became frantic to get him to snap out of it.

"Tony. Tony, look at me." Gibbs voice hitched a little as he plead. "Tony..."

Tony finally turned, just slightly to look toward Gibbs. He looked up at Gibbs, with confused, red rimmed eyes.

"Boss..." it was barely audible.

"Tony," he said as calmly as possible, do you know where Tommy went?"

"Wh...what?" he was disoriented. The bastard had probably drugged Tony too...Tony seemed to be flagging, head leaning back to the wall again, but he kept his haunted green eyes on Gibbs.

Gibbs tensed slightly as the door opened behind him again.

He was instantly blind with rage. Before Tommy even had the chance to step in front of him he spat out "You sick fucking bastard ! You're a dead man !"

Tommy sighed. "Yes, I'm sure I am. No doubt your friends are going to catch up to me and put a bullet in my brain. But, it was never really my plan to get _away _with it." He stepped around to stand in front of Gibbs. He was holding something in his hand.

Gibbs noticed Tommy was shirtless, and sweaty, with some dried blood on his chest and neck…Tony's.

He crouched down in front of Gibbs, staring into his eyes, and then slowly down to the badge, Gibbs' badge, his thumb stroking the raised metal embossing.

Gibbs noticed Tommy's eyes were dilated, and guessed he must have given himself a fix of some drug…how long had Gibbs been under ?

"You know, agent Gibbs, Tony was lucky to have found another father figure, and one so…good. I saw the photo, in his apartment. I'd been coming down to D.C. for a while...on and off...watching him. I always knew I'd be here one day. And I'd seen you with him sometimes, on your way somewhere... I knew you were friends. But then I saw that photo. And the plan shifted..."

He stood up and looked at Tony. " Tony's father was an asshole. But...my dad...he was brilliant. Accomplished. Everything was fine until Tony came along."

He looked back at the badge. " I bet you're a real hero, too. And I can see you care a great deal about him...but so did my father," he tossed the badge on the ground. "It's a shame you got caught up in this...but, Tony needs to pay."

"You don't think your father did enough damage to Tony? He almost killed him! He murdered a 12 year old boy !"

"It wasn't his fault! Tony made him crazy! He was with him all the time...he loved Tony..."

" No. What your father did all those years ago...it wasn't love at all. Tommy, your dad didn't love Tony. He used Tony. Can't you see that?" _Please see that, _Gibbs silently begged.

" Enough !" Tommy shrieked. He paced a few steps, breathing harshly.

Tony hadn't moved.

"It's time." he turned to the still shaking man on the floor. " Time for your grand finale, Tony."


	20. Chapter 20

Compton drove slowly around the pier 18 warehouse row.

He'd volunteered to come in after he found out how he'd screwed the pooch on DiNozzo's protection detail. No one blamed him for it. But it was his responsibility to keep Tony safe…

Gibbs was gonna kill him. If they found Gibbs...

He hoped he got the chance to pay Gibbs back the 50 bucks he owed him...

As he passed one of the alleys between the buildings, he saw it. The white van. New York plates, commercial.

Odds are they were in one of the 6 buildings down the row.

His heart beating faster, he called it in.


	21. Chapter 21

He had dragged Tony from the floor to the piano bench. Tony seemed dazed, still not right...

Gibbs watched quietly, praying they were found soon.

Tommy stood behind Tony, and began to stroke Tony's hair. Gibbs cringed. But Tony had little reaction.

"I had all the keys replaced, but this is your old piano. I kept all the original keys Tony. Imagine my surprise when I found they were **all** marked with that little secret code you and my father shared...Oh, I figured most of them out, it was not much effort to look through my fathers things and find the hotel receipts. Which by the way, he kept also, in a little secret book with your performance photos..."

Gibbs noticed the little movement...Tony closing his eyes, tremors running through him. Maybe there was hope...

"I did wonder though, about the stars. I counted them. Over and over. There were fourteen. Maybe you could tell me what they meant?" he asked softly, in Tony's ear.

Tony still made no sound.

Tommy shrugged and walked away, once again behind Gibbs, taking something out of a bag. "Suit yourself."

Things got silent for another minute, when from behind Gibbs, he said, "Look at me Tony."

Tony didn't move.

"**I said look at me." **And Gibbs heard the sound of a gun being cocked behind him.

Tony heard it too. It seemed to bring him out of his fugue somewhat. He looked up at Tommy and Gibbs. He began to look angry...and frightened.

"Play."

Tony's brow creased in confusion, and he looked back at the piano in front of him, as if just realizing where he was. He shuddered.

Tommy took a few steps around Gibbs, to stand between them.

"_Play_."

Tony looked down at the keyboard, and his breath became more rapid...he placed shaking hands on the keys...and froze.

He was shocked by the sound of a shot going off, and a howl of pain, and leapt up from his seat, almost falling down, " No!" he yelled, turning quickly to look at Gibbs.

**"Sit down!" **Tommy growled.

The shot was into Gibbs' leg. He was gasping and writhing in pain, crimson spreading at the outside of his right upper thigh.

" _**Sonofabitch**_ !" Gibbs cried out angrily.

"The next one's in his head." Tommy said plainly. "Play."

Tony eyed him warily, pulling himself together. He sat back down on the bench, and lifted his hands.

He began to play. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. He didn't think at all at first of anything but keeping Gibbs from a bullet in his skull. His hands were shaking badly, but playing helped to steady him a bit. He needed to _think._ He wondered if he could play long enough, could he stall long enough for them to be found? Was the team even on the right trail to find them ? He hurt, badly, inside and out...and he was so tired...

He realized he had slowed then, a little, but fear for Gibbs' life brought him back to focus.

Gibbs was trying to get his own pulse rate to calm, and get a grasp on the pain emanating from his thigh. Tony was playing...Tommy seemed momentarily spellbound, moving slowly toward Tony. He stood, right behind Tony, as the music went on, and Tony almost faltered as the crazy man's hand stroked his hair...his shoulder...

This was Tony's nightmare. It was his nightmare come to life.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** Thank you for the feedback on chapter length ! You guys have been really kind and supportive – it's so much appreciated ! I won't backtrack now but will keep in mind for the next story…which I already have outlined…Please ignore the Chap 1 reload…I need to add my disclaimer…

Let's get back to the drama, eh ?

THANKS – GRACIAS – DANKA – DOMO – GRAZIE

He continued playing, unaware of the glare Gibbs had trained on Tommy.

He saw Tony had all but jumped again at the man's touch on him. But he had continued playing. He took in some of the details now that he'd missed before...blood soaking through in little spots on the back and arms of Tony's sweater...he ground his teeth seeing some raw looking damage peeking out of the top of the turtleneck, under the back of his friends hairline.

_Was that a bite mark ? _

He struggled again in frustration against his bonds, in his minds eye a picture of how good it would feel to kill the sick bastard.

Tommy still had the gun firmly grasped in one hand, the other, all over DiNozzo. Tony looked near hyperventilating. He was trying so hard not to stop or falter...trying not to give Tommy any reason to fire the gun again. He looked straight forward, even as the hand was traveling to the front of his body...

Gibbs could not see the tears falling again from Tony's eyes, but saw the little smile on Tommy's face.

Tommy leaned in and whispered something in Tony's ear. Gibbs could only guess but couldn't hear it over the rich tones coming from the piano.

Tony just kept playing.

Tommy leaned back, and turned to walk back behind Gibbs. He tried to turn and see what the lunatic was doing, but as before, limited by the confinement of the chair, he couldn't. And because the music was so loud he could not even hear what was going on behind him.

Tommy reappeared in front of him, and to his abject horror still had the gun in one hand, but now a butcher knife in the other. He had an absolutely feral smile on his face.

"**Tony !**" He tried to yell, but he was weak from dehydration and blood loss, so he couldn't get his voice to carry over the music. _Oh god...please..._

"Keep playing Tony, he said loud enough to be heard. "The minute you stop, Gibbs is going to suffer." Tommy took the knife and lifted it to the left side of Tony's throat, flicking it just slightly.

Tony jumped a little, but hadn't realized right away what had just happened until he saw the blood, dripping down the front of his sweater. His hands faltered on the keys, as some drops of crimson fell on them too.

**"Bastard !" **Gibbs screamed hoarsely.

Tommy rested the gun in his other hand on the back of Tony's neck, letting him know he still had it. He said tauntingly, "Oh, Tony, you don't want to ruin the piece your playing, do you? Because I can tell Agent Gibbs is really enjoying it."

Tony kept going but was taking ragged breaths, wondering how long it would be until he lost too much blood and passed out. _No...Dinozzos don't pass out..._

Tony knew that at least he hadn't cut anything so severely that it was pumping out of him...so he tried to calm himself,_ it's not that bad, just a cut..._

Tommy was running the knife flat side up and down the back of Tony's sweater.

"How long do you think you'll last, if I bleed you from a few more places? However long that is...well, I guess that's how long Gibbs has to live. But don't worry, I want this to last, so...I won't make them too deep yet." Tommy took the point of the knife and leisurely pushed it into Tony's back, just under his shoulder blade. Tony almost stopped playing, crying out at the pain the knife caused this time, but caught himself quickly as Tommy pulled it back out. More crimson bloomed in the fabric of the sweater.

Gibbs couldn't believe the scene in front of him, his helplessness and anger bringing moisture to his eyes for the first time during the ordeal. He couldn't believe he was going to lose Tony this way...and that he couldn't do a thing to stop it. He'd failed the only man he loved like a son. And he'd also failed to ever say the words, he never told Tony how much he meant to him. It never seemed necessary, but now, he wished he had.

The keyboard on the piano was now wet, with blood and tears. Moonlight Sonata was coming to an end...had all that horror only taken 6 minutes and 48 seconds ? Tony switched to another piece, Handel...he didn't remember it as well but could fill in the gaps well enough. His cuts were pulsing, especially the one in his back, but the other wounds that were inflicted on him earlier made it hard for him to feel what was what. He wondered if it was bleeding as much as the one at his throat. He felt lightheaded now, trying to make himself slow his breathing. He felt dread. And he felt cold. He knew Tommy was going to cut him again...but he had to keep going as long as he could. Gibbs was depending on him. The only person he'd ever met that understood him, and whose support and friendship never faltered. Gibbs was the closest thing he had to a real father. If he died trying to protect Gibbs, he supposed that was a worthwhile death. But...wouldn't Gibbs end up dead after Tony's performance ended from his blood loss ?

Pain brought him out of his thoughts. The knife was drifting again against him and he gasped as the point went in, to the side of his waist, just under his ribcage. He tried not to cry out this time, not wanting to give Tommy the satisfaction if he could help it. Suddenly he realized that Tommy had switched hands...the gun was in his left hand, the less dominant one, the knife in the right. The thoughts flashed through his mind, and even as Tommy was pulling the knife back out again, Tony knew what he had to do. He wasn't going to last much longer, the dizziness was increasing and he felt a strange chill going through his body. He had to take the chance.

Without warning he quickly picked up his legs and put his feet up on the piano, pushing off as hard as he possibly could.

Tommy was taken off guard, as both men and the bench came over backwards onto the floor, Tommy's gun flying out of his left and and skittering back across the room to land near Gibbs. The knife bounced away closer to them and landed with a ting from the steel. And both men scrambled to get to it. Tony was still not quite free of the effects of the drugs, but adrenaline was pumping through him so he managed to grab Tommy's leg and and pull him back to the ground as he turned to lunge after the weapon. As Tony tried to jump over him for it, but he kicked out, sending Tony to roll painfully onto his back.

Gibbs looked on in horror as Tommy, panting heavily with a scrape across his face, had the knife in his hands again, ready to leap at Tony. He eyed the gun that was just, cruelly, two feet from his chair.

Tony was struggling to stand, pain and exhaustion evident in his posture, the fresh bright red blood from the cut in his throat soaking the front of the turtleneck.

"Well," Tommy said plainly, a little out of breath," you're full of surprises."

They stood, like that for a stretch, it seemed like forever, but Gibbs could see Tony swaying, now pale as a ghost.

Tommy smiled, the vicious gleam returning to his eyes. He waited Tony out some more, circling around Gibbs with the knife.

"Maybe it's time. Gibbs is really just here to die, you know. So you can watch it. So you can know what it _**feels**_ like Tony..."

Gibbs was looking at Tony, anguish in his eyes.

"No..." Tony breathed out. " Please Tommy...I'll do whatever you want..." his voice was soft and weak...his vision was greying and he knew his strength was an at end.

Tommy grabbed Gibbs' hair, yanking his head back.

Tony wanted to say something to make it stop, this nightmare where he was going to see Gibbs murdered in front of him...

But he couldn't, and as he caught the glittering flash of the knife coming down towards his friends exposed neck, his vision blacked and he heard the sound of shattering glass...


	23. Chapter 23

Gibbs saw Tony's eyes roll up in his head as he started to crumple to the ground. At the same time, he heard the sound of glass shattering, and Tommy Anselmo was suddenly on the cement floor, to the right of Gibbs' chair, dead from a shot to the head.

Gibbs looked up at the tiny street level window, where he saw Ziva, crouched down, gun still resting in both hands.

"Gibbs!" She called to him through the window. "Are you alright ?"

As he eyed Tony's motionless form in front of him, he replied as loudly as he could, "No, get the paramedics down here,Tony's hurt !"

"We will be right down Gibbs !"

He said a silent prayer of thanks. He wondered how close Tommy was to ending him. He looked at the knife, still resting in the dead man's hand.

McGee was down in a flash, cutting through the ropes that had tormented him for the last almost 36 hours. It was extremely painful to move his arms forward from their position, and he grunted in pain as McGee rubbed at his arms a bit to increase the circulation. He groaned angrily at the pain in his legs, and especially the one that had been shot. He stayed seated after McGee cut the ropes at his ankles, not sure his legs would even hold him up if he tried to stand.

"I want only you and Ziva processing this room, McGee, you hear me ?" it came out a low growl. He be damned if this became coffee talk for some of the other teams at the yard.

" Yes Boss," McGee said evenly, taking in the gruesome sight of the room, the floor area by the beams with bloodstains, the piano, also with fresher looking smears of red, and Tony, on the floor unconscious. He heard Gibbs grunting in pain again trying to move his arms some more.

McGee was leaning over his Boss again, eyes large with worry as he looked down at the gunshot wound in Gibbs' thigh. "It's a through-n-through, McGee. I'll live. Now move." McGee was blocking his view of Tony.

Ziva was kneeling beside Tony, gently shaking his shoulder. She was calling his name but, got no response. He was almost white. His skin looked waxy. The wound in his neck was still bleeding, the neck of his sweater completely soaked. As she moved the fabric down to try and compress the wound, she saw the bruising and scrapes around his throat. Her brow furrowed, and she took one of his wrists to check his pulse rate. When her fingers came in contact with scraped bloody skin, she felt suddenly afraid. What had happened here?

She looked up and saw Gibbs looking at Tony. When his eyes looked up to hers, she could see the raw anguish in them.

McGee nervously asked, "Is Tony gonna be okay?"

Gibbs was silent.

She took a shuddering breath and took Tony's hand in hers as she said, "He is alive, and we have to thank God for that."

Ducky was in Gibbs' hospital room, where he was already making the nurse on duty aware of his reputation as a bastard.

"You _need _to stay put, Jethro. You cannot just walk around on that leg yet. You're lucky there was no serious damage."

The nurse was hovering around the room, checking his I.V. She murmured, "You're extremely dehydrated, Mr. Gibbs, so I suggest you stay in one spot until the fluids are done, and then you can ask your doctor about what's next."

"It's _Agent _Gibbs," he said testily, "and I only have a flesh wound."

"And a concussion, and incredibly thorough rope burns on your arms." Ducky eyed him accusingly. "And the long ears, of a jack-ass."

Gibbs gave him a sour look, and then sighed heavily as the nurse walked out of the room.

Gibbs' blue eyes stared at the wall across from his bed. He was silent for a moment. Ducky noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion evident. "I couldn't help him, Duck. I just sat there..."

"There was nothing you could do, Jethro, and you and Tony are lucky to be _alive _!" His tone was firm, and he stepped in front of his friend, making sure there was eye contact. " Do not blame yourself .for God's sake you were tied to a chair!"

"You don't understand Duck...it was..." Gibbs trailed off, and then said lowly in cold fury "If I could bring that bastard back to life, I would do it just to kill him all over again with my own hands."

Ducky frowned, "What did happen, Jethro?"

When Gibbs hesitated to reply, Ducky quickly added, "They are still evaluating Anthony, and haven't told us anything yet aside that they were immediately giving him a transfusion."

Gibbs looked at Ducky, his voice tight, and uttered "That bastard… tortured him. He...I dunno, I was unconscious for a while, but I think he...may have assaulted him…"

"I see." Ducky said, then pacing the room a little and sighing heavily. After a moment he added, "Horrific."

He turned his sad eyes to Gibbs. "What else...went on?"

Gibbs sighed again. " He used me…to torture Tony. He made Tony sit at the piano. That sick fuck had him play music, threatening that if he stopped, he'd hurt me. That's when he shot me Duck, to let Tony know he was serious...and then he tried to distract him and he cut him..."

_"Good God,"_ Ducky breathed out softly. " Such hatred."

" Ya think?" Gibbs said softly.

"And when Ziva shot him through the window?" Ducky had heard at least that much from the others.

"She saved my ass again," Gibbs said, remembering Ari.

Ducky nodded.

"I'm going to go see if there's any word on Tony yet, and before you ask, yes I will come straight back to tell you."

He turned to go, but looked back at Gibbs from the door, eyeing him intently," This is no one's fault but the very deranged Thomas Anselmo. Don't waste your time blaming yourself for something that was not in your control. Anthony is going to need you. You may be the only one who can get him through this." He stared at Gibbs for a moment longer, and added, " And when you need, you talk to me, Jethro."

Gibbs' eyes did not hide the gratitude he felt for those words. He swallowed harshly, and then nodded.

Ducky gave him a quick nod and then was out of the room.


	24. Chapter 24

It was dark in the room when he woke up. He felt immediate confusion…this was a hospital bed he was in. But he didn't remember how he got in it.

A low beeping heart monitor played next to him, a comforting steady rhythm. Next to that, an I.V. pole with several bags, a tangle of tubes trailing down into the tape on his hand.

As he stared at his hand he saw the bandages on his wrist. And looked at the other wrist. And then remembered why his body was so sore.

Gibbs ! He sat bolt upright, suddenly gasping at how much it hurt to move and bandages pulling at his neck and back.

"Oh…" he started to groan sadly, remembering the knife Tommy was bringing down on Gibbs. He squeezed his eyes shut, the heart monitor now emitting a more frantic noise, and brought his hands to his face in despair.

Gibbs was dead. He'd failed…he'd survived all the horror just so that he had to see that…the images started replaying in his mind over and over.

A nurse walked in hastily. She went straight to the monitor and then looked at him with pity in her eyes.

"Mr. DiNozzo…" she called to him., not really waiting for an answer. She quickly turned to the I.V. stand to check the blood, the fluids, and antibiotics all connected to he patient.

"Mr. DiNozzo," she called again. "Is something hurting you ? Are you in pain ?"

Tony looked up at her, he was ashen, his expression too sad for words. He shook his head and slumped back onto the bed, tear tracks down his face.

"Are you sure ?" she asked, again getting just a nod from him. She sighed, "OK, I'm going to look for the doctor and let her know you're awake." And then he was alone again, to wonder what had happened to Tommy after he killed Gibbs…

That thought was agony. And made him angry. Furious. He wanted to know where the nightmarish tormentor was, and find the butcher knife and … then he shivered. The butcher knife…and the piano.. .he slowly felt his side and found the bandages that undoubtedly covered the cut below his ribs. He also now noticed all the scrapes and burns on his elbows and forearms from the cement floor…the floor he'd been lying on when Tommy had…"Oh God," he choked out.

He started to gasp for air, feeling panic and fear grip him, taking over all his senses…he needed to get out of the room, out of the hospital…he needed air…

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up, shaking, but found himself swaying, and feeling suddenly disconnected from his body… was he floating now ?

Just as his knees buckled under him, two hands caught his shoulders, easing him down to the floor, and he heard a grunt of pain and someone calling his name.

Gibbs' leg burned like it was on fire again. He had just made it to Tony, catching him and ending up on the floor with him. Gibbs looked at how pale Tony still was, as he finished easing him down, laying him across his good leg. He took in all the bandaging at various places on Tony's body, wishing this all had just been a bad dream.

His brow creased with worry, "Where the hell did ya' think you were going, DiNozzo?" he asked softly. "Tony ?" He lightly tapped the younger man's face. He heard a small moan. And then the green eyes cracked open, gazing slowly at Gibbs' face. He lifted his hand slowly touching his Boss' face. "Alive?" he whispered, almost in disbelief.

Gibbs hadn't thought about that. The fact that Tony's last visual was that maniac about to end his mentor's life. He was suddenly glad he'd woken up when he did to sneak out of his room to find him.

"Well, yeah, Tony, if I wasn't, my leg would feel a lot better." Gibbs tried to give him a wan smile, but Tony just stared at him. The green eyes now filling up with water, he said, "I'm sorry, Boss…I couldn't…" his breath started hitching ,"I couldn't stop him…" Gibbs pulled him up a bit, putting his arms around the trembling man. He gripped Tony to him, as he felt the hot tears begin to soak the front of his hospital gown, and said, "I've got you. You're okay…you're okay…"Gibbs soothed, over and over, more to convince himself than Tony.

The door to Tony's room opened, and he saw a Doctor walk in, her eyes widened a bit at seeing them on the floor, as they were. Gibbs looked up at the Doctor and shook his head, softly saying "Give us a few, would you?" The Doctor nodded soundlessly and the door shut quietly.

Tony slowly pulled himself up away from Gibbs, having been somewhat aware of the Doctor 's presence before.

His face was so filled with pain…Gibbs wanted to take that away from him, erase the whole last several days from Tony's memory. Tony said in a strangled voice, "I can't do it…I can't do this."

"Do what ?"

"I…can't live with this," Tony said, almost pleading with him,"Don't make me live with this…"his voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Gibbs felt a terrible chill run through him. "You will, Tony, you're one of the strongest people I've ever met." Gibbs kept his gaze steady, and gently wrapped his hand around the side of Tony's head, "And I'm not going anywhere."

Tears streamed down Tony's face as he stared at Gibbs for a moment, then taking a shaky breath and nodded, "Okay, okay Boss."

Gibbs looked at the clock on the wall. "It's 04:15 Tony, we need to get you back in bed. And I want to know what the Doc has to say."

Tony nodded a little, suddenly spent. Gibbs helped him up off the floor, grimacing at the throbbing pain in his thigh, and got him back into bed. He looked at the I.V. lines and noted that they hadn't seemed to come loose, and the tape was in place.

"Nothing easy, huh?" He looked back at Tony's face, but he had already fallen asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Gibbs watched Tony sleep for a while in the dark hospital room. He did elevate his leg in a reclining chair next to Tony's bed…as per the nurses threats he would be sent back to his room otherwise.

Ducky had never got to report back to him on Tony the day before, because once he closed his eyes, he fell into an exhausted sleep,and didn't wake up until 03:00. He had woken up worried, needing to see Tony was okay, and went sneaking past the nurses station to get to find him. He was grateful to see Tony's name on their board…meaning Tony wasn't in I.C.U.

His venture to find Tony did cause him some pain, his leg throbbing, but the physical pain did nothing compared to knowledge he'd been helpless to stop what had happened to Tony.

And then he entered the room to see his friend looking frantic to get air, in the grips of a panic attack , before he started to pass out…

They had been through so much as partners, and as friends...but he wasn't sure he had the tools to get Tony through this. And how would he get the team through this? They had run themselves into the ground trying to find Tony and himself… They were probably gong to come in the morning to see Tony and he were doing. Only...he didn't feel certain how Tony was going to be around anyone for a while...

The Doctor had come in and apprised Gibbs of Tony's condition. He had been in Hemhorragic shock when brought in...from blood loss, but thankfully hadn't gone Hypovolemic and stabilized quickly enough with several transfusions... the cuts themselves had been relatively superficial, except for the one in his throat, which had slightly nicked the artery, and so needed more careful suturing. His wrists, arms, legs, and neck had scrapes and friction wounds. Gibbs had been devastated when the Doctor pointed to the bruising on Tony's throat, which in some places had the imprint of metal chain links...he knew that was part of what happened when he'd been unconscious, unable to recall what Tony was put through exactly.

When the Doctor talked about how they had to clean and treat the three bite marks, two that broke skin, Gibbs almost became unglued. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Human bite wounds had to be cleaned thoroughly and watched for signs of infection. They had run very strong antibiotics for that reason through Tony's I.V. They also had Tony on strong painkillers, and he would need them for at least a week. The Doctor continued gently, saying they had also still needed permission for the rape kit to be administered...if Tony gave it. Gibbs felt frozen inside. She advised therapy and STD follow up testing for 6 months. Gibbs wondered if he could keep this out of Tony's records...because every time someone wanted to get to him...they could dig this up, and try to undo him with it...he'd relive it all over again...

Aside that, she said Tony was fine. And if he remained stabie could possibly be released in the evening. He would need someone to help clean and keep an eye on the bite wounds.

Sure, just fine. He was probably going to have PTSD, maybe nightmares the rest of his life, _but hey, he's fine._

Gibbs let out a shaky breath, eyes on Tony's sleeping face as he frowned and twitched slightly in his sleep. He leaned back in the reclining chair, and watching the rise and fall of his friends breathing, fell into another exhausted sleep...

When he woke up, his leg was throbbing intensely, indicating his own need for a dose of pain medication. In the daylight coming through the window, golden morning sun, he saw the bruising around Tony's neck, ugly dark red and blackened purples. He was not as pale, though, and that was good to see.

Gibbs grunted at the stiffness of his body as he pushed the chair back up and sat up straight. He stretched his arms a bit, noting the matching wrist bandages he and Tony seemed to have. He sighed and pulled himself up to stand at the bedside.

As he placed a hand on the arm rail of the bed, Tony jolted awake, and was immediately on alert, gasping for breath, eyeing Gibbs,"Boss, you okay?"

Gibbs put a hand on Tony's shoulder to reassure him, and tried to pretend he didn't feel Tony flinch. "Everything's fine."

He looked down for a moment, getting his bearings, and then back to Gibbs. "You stayed the rest of the night?" He asked, a bit too monotone.

"Of course."

Tony nodded and then fell silent, staring at his wrists on his lap.

"Your injuries..." Gibbs began," The Doc said you're gonna be ok, but-"

"Yeah," Tony said, suddenly loud and followed by a bitter laugh. "I'm sure I'll be back to normal in no time. He turned suddenly to Gibbs, remembering,"Tommy-"

"Dead. Ziva put one between his eyes."

"Ah," Tony said softly." Wish I could've seen that." he wanted to sound stronger, but it had come out very small.

Gibbs continued," Tony, the Doctor...they need to-"

"No. They **don't."** the tone was deadly. Tony's eyes had become laser locked on Gibbs. And they stayed like that for a moment.

"Okay." Gibbs finally said, letting it go. Tommy was dead. No conviction needed. And he knew Ducky would check into Tommy's blood...to see if there was anything to worry about. He couldn't even follow the line of that thinking though, right now.

They were silent again, and Tony was looking down at his wrists again.

"I'm sorry," Gibbs' voice caught for a moment, he tried again, "I'm so sorry, Tony." He gripped the bedrail with both hands, knuckles white.

Tony was trying not to look at him...and Gibbs saw he was trembling just a bit. He suddenly turned his face to look at him, and asked, "Why?" he shook his head wonderingly, " Why the hell would **you **be sorry Gibbs? You got kidnapped, because some deranged lunatic wanted to get to me. It was because of me!" The anger and pain in his words made them come out like daggers.

"Maybe," Gibbs said quietly," we both need to pin the blame on the psycho."

Tony stared at him for a moment, and then his face softened. "Okay."

He looked at Gibbs another moment, and back down to his wrists, playing with the bandages.

"When they cut you loose, you're with me for a while."

Tony frowned but didn't look up. He wanted to say no. He wanted to say he'd be fine in his own apartment. He wanted to tell Gibbs he was really okay, so Gibbs wouldn't worry, or feel guilty. But he couldn't. Because inside he felt lost in a sea of black, having very little idea how to keep from being pulled under. So he nodded his agreement, swallowing back the emotion he was feeling, the gratitude Gibbs was alive and here for him, and the fear he felt at being alone with his own thoughts.


	26. Chapter 26

Gibbs was going to be released later that day. His own injuries seemed very much under control…just uncomfortable. He felt a bit raw emotionally, and irritable, but knew they all needed him to keep it together. So he did.

Abby and Ducky had come early to see Tony, and though they tried their best, he was extremely withdrawn. None of the team knew the exact details of Tony's childhood abuse, aside he was for surely molested by Bobby Anselmo. But this...to see Tony looking so fragile and viciously bruised...Abby had to school her expression, so as not to upset Tony further.

"I brought Bert for a visit," she offered, the Hippo tucked under her arm, smiling at Tony. "And…some of those hard candy dots on paper…" she trailed, not getting any reaction from him, "I dunno why. I guess, they were appealing, cos, sugar in bright colors, I mean, who doesn't like that?"

He looked at her with empty eyes that made her heart ache. She had never seen him look so disconnected and it disturbed her greatly.

She picked up her hand and stoked his face, and was unprepared when he whispered, " Please, Abs, don't touch me...I'm so sorry..."He bit his lip.

She pulled back as if shed touched something hot.

"I..."tears were already flowing from her eyes." I'm sorry Tony." And then there was uncomfortable silence.

She finally bit the bullet and said," So...probably hugging you would be bad right now, huh? But not forever. Just for a while right? I...I'm a hugger, you know, I mean...that's my thing..."he felt guilty that she was sad now too.

He gave her a little smile, "I'm sure it's temporary Abs,"his voice was breaking a little. "I just can't stand for anyone to...to touch me right now..."he had even flinched from Gibbs earlier that morning, and it was sheer hell having the nurses and doctors all over him, touching the wounds.

"M'really tired, Abs..."

"Oh...okay Tony..." she said knowing she had been dismissed. Afraid to make any physical contact, she looked at him intensely and said "I love you Tony. And you'll feel better, I promise. You just need time."

He smiled just a little and she left.

Gibbs was on a crutch out in the hallway by Tony's room, talking to Ducky when Abby came out quickly, almost knocking Ducky down in her distraction. They saw her face and knew it wasn't a good visit.

Gibbs caught her in a hug with his one free arm as she said tearfully into his chest,"Have I told you how glad I am you're okay, Gibbs? And, that I love you Gibbs? I love you Gibbs."

"Only about 50 times this morning," he said into her hair, smiling while he glanced at Ducky. She was crying into his shoulder.

" What happened with Tony?" he asked, already knowing what had likely transpired.

She pulled away from him, wiping at her eyes and looking at them both.

"He's un-Tony. He's Tony, but emotionally M.I.A...like, not home. It was horrible Gibbs, he didn't want me to touch him..." her voice wavered at that.

He nodded, looking into her eyes, and said, "He's just gonna need time. He will be okay, I promise you," echoing the very same words she'd told Tony moments ago.

"For now," he continued, "Can you just call McGee and Ziva and tell them to stay home, and get some rest ? I don't think it's a good idea for them to come, and we're off rotation for a few days so everyone can recoup. And that means you too, Abby."

She nodded, "Ok Bossman." She then gave him another hug, and gave Ducky one too. "I love you too, Ducky."

He smiled and said,"The feeling is mutual, my dear."

She left with Bert.

Gibbs leaned against the wall, tiring.

"You okay, Jethro ?" Ducky asked in a gentle tone.

"Yeah, Duck," he said, sighing deeply. "I just…I have to get him through this. I dunno how, but I have to…we can't do without him…"

"You meant the team can't or you, Jethro ?"

"Both."

Ducky nodded. "Maybe, it would be prudent to call in Caitlyn's sister, at some point, to help Tony work through it all…I think he may need to pass a psychological evaluation before he can return to duty anyway…she cares about him. Because Kate did…"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. I will. I think we'll start though by getting the hell out of here."

That night, Ducky gave them a ride home back to Gibbs' house. Tony was silent the whole time, absently looking out the window.

Ducky had gone by the house and straightened up the kitchen, as not to remind Tony right away of how he had been drugged and abducted from that place in particular. _But, _he had thought sourly upon it, _there may not be anything that would keep Tony from thinking about it anyway._

Ducky left them off, hoping he would hear things went better than he expected them to, when he next spoke to Gibbs.

Gibbs was looking at Tony, who had gone inside and simply sat on the couch.

"You thirsty?"

Tony merely shook his head no.

"Food?"

"Maybe later…" Tony said quietly.

Gibbs went into the kitchen, putting down the bag of drugs and supplies needed for keeping Tony's wounds and stitches clean.

All Tony wanted was a scalding hot shower. He wanted to try to wash away what happened in the warehouse…He knew it wouldn't be that easy. But it didn't mean he couldn't try. He also knew Gibbs would stop him though, if he tried, because they had been warned to wait another 36 hours before washing and redressing everything. He felt a knot in his stomach. He knew Gibbs would have to help him with that…and would see the damage on his body…and touch him…

Tony suddenly felt sick, and headed into the downstairs bathroom. Gibbs was still in the kitchen, organizing things at a slow pace, limping around after disgustedly throwing his crutch into a corner.

Tony closed the door behind him and quickly went to the toilet, vomiting the bits of hospital food he'd choked down in order to convince the Doctor to release him on time.

He flushed and then went to the sink. He stared at his reflection, a sudden hatred of himself rising as he took in the bruising and bandages. He knew he probably shouldn't feel that way, and suddenly felt confused…he had gone through this once already…overcome it…buried it…he could do the same again couldn't he ?

He turned the water on, to rinse out his mouth and splash his face. But as he looked up again, he had the odd sensation, he didn't know who he was. Who the man with the green eyes was, in the mirror. He began to feel unbearably sad, and forced himself to move, drying his face.

As he closed his eyes, running the towel over his cheeks, a loud noise came from the kitchen, setting off a reaction in him that quickly had him on his knees shaking…

He couldn't breathe…he wanted to get away…the words were echoing in his mind, "You know how to do this, you'll be my good boy…" and he was on the cement floor again, Tommy's weight on top of him, and the excruciating pain was there, of the rape and the teeth digging into him…

He heard screaming. He tried to cover his ears. Then someone was trying to pull him up, away from his curled up position on the floor…He realized it was Gibbs, frantically calling his name, because it had been Tony himself who was screaming on Gibbs' bathroom floor.


	27. Chapter 27

Gibbs had no idea what had just happened. He was in the kitchen, and thought Tony was still on the couch.

He was organizing groceries Ducky had dropped for them earlier, along with all the hospital supplies, and since he was a little unstable walking, dropped a pot that he had meant to put away onto the hardwood floor.

Next thing he knew he heard agonized screaming coming from elsewhere in the house, and ran even with the bad leg to get to Tony.

He found the younger man, completely undone, curled over his knees on the bathroom floor. When Gibbs called his name, he could see Tony had no idea he was there…the scream died into a wail, as Gibbs put his hands on Tony's elbows, trying to get him to come up off the floor and look him in the face.

_God,_ he thought_, this is PTSD_. Already. They'd barely been home 5 minutes.

He wondered what the trigger had been...then he shook his head, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity. The pot. In the kitchen.

Tony stopped screaming, but was now shaking and gasping, still not allowing himself to be moved at all. So Gibbs got down on the floor next to him, gently running his fingers through Tony's hair. He tried to soothe him, "It's alright, it's alright, I'm here, you're okay, you're safe…" He kept his voice low and even, as the gasping started to slow down. But the panic Gibbs felt a few minutes ago, turned to a horrible, gut wrenching ache as he heard Tony whisper into the hands he was resting his head on, "Why didn't he just kill me?"

Now that Gibbs new Tony had come back to himself, he had to derail that line of thinking immediately.

"Tony, come on, look at me," keeping his voice steady and calm. "Come on," he repeated more softly, finally getting the distraught man to sit up and face him.

Tony's eyes were red rimmed, his face wet again with tears. But he was silent now. He was beyond pain. He was pure devastation.

Gibbs spoke slowly, to make sure Tony was going to really absorb the words. "This is not your fault. And this is not you. This is what the pain does to you. It will get better, but you have to fight to get back to where you wanna be." He eyed Tony intently.

Something clicked, he could feel Tony was thinking again, and not just reacting. He nodded, not saying anything, but a small spark of hope returned to the glittering green eyes. He drew in a shaky breath.

"Thanks Boss," he said hoarsely.

Gibbs nodded.

After a moment he said,"Tony?"

"Yeah Boss ?"

"I need you to get up, because I can't get up now myself."

They looked at each other for a moment, and Gibbs smiled while Tony gave a small snort at what a case the two of them were together.

Tony got up on his still shaky legs but managed well enough to pull Gibbs up with him as the older man grunted.

Tony didn't feel very convinced, and was wondering what had just happened to him…a loud noise made him crack up. He'd lost it. Out of nowhere. _How the hell am I gonna have anyone's six if I'm a basket case ?_

The rest of the team had been calling, leaving messages. Wanting to see them. Worrying. But he just couldn't right now. He couldn't even look himself in the mirror.

"Okay," Gibbs said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Let's try this again. You. Sit."

He sat on the couch, now very tired anyhow…almost numb again.

"Food. We're doing it. And pain meds." The plan was grunted out from the kitchen, as Gibbs rustled around again. Doing…whatever.

He poked his head out for a moment,"You know maybe I'll order pizza. Cooking on vicodin may not be a good idea right now…" he trailed off, seeing that Tony was completely out, lightly snoring. He looked at him for a moment,"Huh."

"Okay, pizza sounds great Boss," he said quietly to himself, smiling a little.

By the time Tony woke , pain radiating from his neck and back, the house was silent. He noticed there was a blanket on top of him. He frowned and said under his breath,"What am I, five?" But then smiled at the fact Gibbs had thrown it on him anyway.

There was also a note, on the table in front of him.

It read, _Pizza in kitchen. Take your meds. _

"Ah, Gibbs," he said out loud softly with genuine appreciation. And he managed to get up, one slice of cold pizza was all he could handle, but it was enough to get down the painkillers without feeling sick. There was a bottle of antibiotics for him as well, but since they'd given him the I.V. drip, they were just for a backup in case the bite marks showed signs of infection. _The bite marks_….no, he didn't want to think anymore right now. _Enough._

After he took his pills, he wondered where Gibbs had got to, but then seeing the clock he knew Gibbs was likely asleep. It was 02:27. He thought maybe he would go to bed in the guest room instead of crashing the couch again.

As he walked back through the living room, he heard Gibbs from the upstairs bedroom, calling him…it didn't sound so good. Maybe his leg wasn't doing well…he got a little worried that Gibbs was in pain.

Tony climbed the stairs and began to hear more clearly words Gibbs was saying, or rather mumbling…

As he neared the bedroom, he noticed the light was off…and then he got it. Gibbs was dreaming.

Muttering, the breathy words were starting to make sense…

"Tony…Tony…"the tone was pleading, and then angry,"I'll kill you, you bastard, I'll kill you for this…" Gibbs was shifting restlessly, the dream continuing on for a bit.

Tony leaned on the wall next to Gibbs' door, having just a small glimpse at how Gibbs must have felt in that room while Tommy was…he shook his head. He didn't want to think about it.

"No!...No…leave him alone…" and then Gibbs mumbled something else unintelligible before settling down, the dream passing. Tony slid down the wall, feeling the painful spots on his back the whole way.

He put his head on his knees, and closed his eyes, wondering how the hell they were both going to get through this.


	28. Chapter 28

He'd woken up in a cold sweat, about three times, trying to get back to sleep, forcing the images of blood on piano keys away from him. He was still very tired when he heard Gibbs up, making coffee.

He heard the rain, during the night. The gutters on Gibbs' house made a soft murmuring sound. It was soothing. So he tried to focus on that when he'd woken up, those times, heart pounding in his chest, sweaty.

He felt lost. There was no way he was going to be able to go back to work any time soon. In fact, what was he going to do if he couldn't get back to normal ? He started getting anxious again.

He stared at the ceiling, trying to calm himself.

Gibbs had been affected badly by this – no surprise there. But, wouldn't it be harder for Gibbs to get over what happened too with Tony around? He felt like a liability…

He still felt guilty Gibbs had been kidnapped, and hurt, because of him. No, because of Tommy. Or maybe it was both. He felt angry again, and helpless, and not like himself.

Gibbs was stirring around some more in the kitchen. Cooking breakfast. He could smell it too…pancakes. He knew he probably should get up. But he couldn't make himself move yet.

At least tonight he could get a shower. That would be so good…except…for the part where Gibbs had to help him with the bandages and treating his wounds…

Tony suddenly had a knot in his stomach. He wondered if he could escape the pancakes. But he knew he'd need to take painkillers shortly, since his neck and one spot on his back had become extremely painful again…

He forced himself up, groaning a little, rubbing his face.

As he went into the downstairs bathroom again, he tested his reflection, eyeing it cautiously. He stared at the man in the mirror again. No. Not even close. He looked away, suddenly feeling anguish, pain rising up in him, suffocating him…

"_God,"_ he whispered to himself. How long would he be like this ?

In the kitchen, Gibbs was trying to come up with some kind of plan...how and when to let their team over to visit, and how and when to get Tony to see Rachel Cranston.

He knew he could talk to Tony too, and maybe Tony would feel more comfortable with him. But, he wasn't sure how he could help aside just listening. Cranston would be far more masterful at getting Tony to talk, and to a better place. She'd already proven herself worth her weight in gold the night Tony got shot in that alley...

And now that Tony already had signs of PTSD, it was crucial to get him whatever he needed in order to come back to his job and normal routines, and to the people who cared about him. Gibbs shook his head, cursing Tommy Anselmo again, hoping he was burning in Hell.

He set the pancakes aside, after cooking the last of the batter. He poured more coffee as he thought some more about it. Maybe better have Cranston come first before the team...

Just then Tony appeared in the kitchen, tired and rumpled looking. Flannel pants and tee shirt quite opposite of the usual Armani Gibbs was used to seeing his SFA in at the office. He was pale, and the shading under his eyes told Gibbs sleep had been only relatively successful.

He wordlessly passed his Boss and went straight to the coffee maker. The bruises on Tony's neck were shifting color again, now mostly blackened purple with yellow and a tinge of green. The bandage on his neck needed to be changed, and the bite wounds needed checking...but that could wait a little while. His brows came together for just an instant at that thought.

"How'd you sleep ?" Gibbs practically grunted it out, picking up his coffee cup at the kitchen table.

"Like someone hit me over the head," Tony said softly, without thinking. " Oh, ahh, forgot...that...sorry Boss..."

Gibbs just shook his head.

"No apologies. Right."

"Tony."

"Yes, Boss?"

"Sit down and drink your coffee."

He did. And then grew silent.

Gibbs knew that usually, he'd need a muzzle to keep Tony's mouth shut, but at least there was a little of his usual behavior there...he'd have to be okay with that for now.

"Get yourself a plate and eat," Gibbs commanded gently, not looking up from his paper.

He heard Tony's subtle sigh as he did so.

It remained quiet, while Tony ate. Then took his pain meds. Then, just sat for a while, staring at the table.

Gibbs finally put the paper down. His eyes traced up and down from Tony's blank stare to his hands, resting around his coffee cup, unmoving.

It was like he was frozen in place.

"I'm going to call Rachel Cranston," he said suddenly, surprising himself.

Tony still didn't say anything, but his eyes flicked around the kitchen for a moment.

"Tony-," Gibbs started softly.

"You do whatever the hell you wanna do," Tony said darkly and stood up, suddenly, taking his plate and cup to the sink. He stood there for a moment, feeling immediately guilty he's reacted to Gibbs that way.

"You have to start somewhere," Gibbs said behind him from his seat at the table.

The tone was patient, even.

**Damn him**, Tony thought.

He turned to look at his friend. He wanted to tell him to fuck off. That he didn't need Cranston. But once again, he couldn't say what he knew wasn't true. He looked away from Gibbs for a moment. Then back into his blue eyes, warmth and worry in them. He felt undeserving. He didn't deserve for Gibbs to care about him like this. He felt dirty.

"I…need to go lie down again…I didn't sleep so well…"it wasn't a lie. He was tired and got little sleep. It wasn't running away from anything. At least he told himself that.

Gibbs swallowed, and looked down for a moment, as if he was going to say something, but just looked back up to Tony,"Okay." He watched as Tony walked out of the kitchen.

Gibbs sighed deeply to himself. _Way to go._ But then, he knew Tony would react that way didn't he? He'd never sought professional help when he lost Shannon and Kelly. In fact, he probably would have told anyone suggesting it to fuck off too. But…he knew this was different….this was _Tony_. As close to a son as he'd ever have. He couldn't lose him to this…

Rachel Cranston was updating her appointment book in her private office.

She mused at the fact most of her colleagues mocked her for not using electronic media. But – she preferred the visual of how time was allotted, how her time was used. And if anything, she'd never have to survive a data loss.

Her phone rang, and she saw "Gibbs" appear on the caller I.D.

She picked it up smoothly, "Hello Agent Gibbs."

"_Hi Doc."_

"How are you?" she asked, genuinely.

There was a pause.

"Gibbs?'

"_I…we need your help again Doc."_

"Okay," she said, her tone serious,"How can I help?"

"_Tony…"_

"Is he having any residual issues from the night he got shot ?" She asked smoothly.

"_No. It's something else."_

Another pause.

"Okay Gibbs, do I need to stand outside and look for smoke signals, or are you going to tell me what's going on?" she knew she was being a bit of a smart ass, but her tone was gentle. This was Kate's other family, and they all mattered to Rachel now too, a great deal.

She heard him pull a shaky breath. _Shaky. When does Gibbs do shaky ?_

"_Tony and I were abducted, by a deranged lunatic…and…some things happened…"_

A pause again, but she waited patiently. This sounded bad already.

"_I think Tony needs help. I think he is already showing signs of PTSD. And I dunno how to help him."_

"I am sorry that happened to you both," she said gently. "I know your job comes with a lot of danger. I'm sure you knew that going in." She said it purposely.

"_Yes," he said, a little annoyed,"But this is different. It wasn't about the job…and the way he hurt Tony…" he stopped, knowing he was saying too much already. "I think Tony needs to talk to you about it."_

"I think Tony isn't the only one who needs to talk," she said , seamlessly.

A pause again.

"_Yeah…yeah maybe."_

She was surprised by the quick admission.

"Okay Gibbs, I have a tight schedule during the day, but I can be at your office at 6pm?"

"_No. Not at the office Doc. Has to be my place."_

She hesitated at that for only a moment,"Okay. Can Tony be there too ? Maybe I can talk to you both together just to gat an idea what happened ?"

"_He's here with me. He's staying here for now."_

She knew Gibbs was fiercely protective of his team, his family.

"Okay, I will see you both then. And Gibbs…I'll bring my own coffee."


	29. Chapter 29

The rain kept up much of the day.

Tony slept.

Gibbs talked to Ducky to update him on how they were doing. Then Ziva. Then Abby. Then McGee. And then he was almost too exhausted to do anything else. It was more talking than he did cumulatively in a year. They were worried. And still knew nothing of the uglier details of what Tommy Anselmo did to Tony. Except for Ducky, who he knew would let Tony decide for himself on what he wanted to tell the others.

They had reports to write, and Ducky had Tommy's body on ice, ready for release when all the red tape was finished up. But he had Vance's approval to keep them all out for another few days. Then they would all sit down and talk, about what was going in the official reports.

Since Gibbs knew from Tony's doctor that he had been sexually assaulted, there was a lot they needed to work through along with the other violence…but, it would be up to Tony what he would put in his statement. If he ever made one to add to McGee and Ziva's reports. Technically, Gibbs was a victim too – so could refuse to add his own statement. But it would leave a hole…a strange gap in the file, so he's have to write up some of it.

He grimaced to himself. At the idea they needed to protect Tony by omitting some of the details. And he knew at some point, Tony would ask him. What the file said. He's be worried about his career…if he was able to come back to work at all.

Gibbs groaned to himself at that thought, shaking his head to himself. He had to start thinking more positively. Tony had come through so many other things that most people wouldn't.

Gibbs looked at the clock. It was 18:30 hours. He put the book down he had barely had the mind to concentrate on and got up from the couch. Stiff. Again. _Damned fucking leg._

_Tony has to be in some discomfort by now_…he was due some medication. He winced as he walked over to the guest room, and then tapped lightly on the door.

"Yeah Boss?" Tony answered in a quiet voice.

Gibbs pushed the door open to find Tony was sitting up, at the edge of the bed, light from the window having faded and leaving him in relative darkness. How long had he been sitting like that ?

"I was thinkin', we should get you cleaned up. You'd probably feel a world better with a hot shower."

He saw a slight slouch in Tony's shoulders.

"Ah…yeah. You're right. That would be good." Monotone again.

"I'll set up the supplies in here. ..to take care of your cuts. You know where the clean towels are. Just come out in your sweats. And we'll take care of it all." Gibbs wondered what Tony's back looked like at this point. Tension threaded through him.

Tony nodded. But hadn't turned to look at him.

Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the well of sadness he felt for Tony's pain come up in him. He had to put it aside.

"Okay," he said more to himself, heading back to the kitchen to gather the hospital supplies.

Tony was numb again. He felt the initial anxiety when Gibbs brought up the injuries…cuts…not wanting to use the term "bite wounds" or "bite marks"…It made him feel instantly panicked and sick, but part of him knew this had to be done, and he'd just shut down.

He made his way to the bathroom after taking the clean sweats and towel with him.

He pulled back the shower curtain and began to undress. As he turned to throw his dirty clothes on the floor, he caught his reflection again in the mirror, just now seeing part of his back, two of the ugly and still swollen bites, scabs and black bruising around them. And the cut under his ribcage, stitched up and dark.

His vision was closing in on him again, turned away from the image, the one of this damaged person he didn't know, and sat on the toilet with his head between his knees trying to breathe.

The memories were clawing at him now, trying to pull him in, and he pounded a fist into his thigh, "Stop, stop, stop…"hissing to himself.

He was trembling badly but forced himself up to turn on the shower. As hot as he could make it and got in.

The water stung at first, and hurt the still raw and tender injuries. He just stood under the spray, praying to whatever god would listen, that he could feel clean again.

On unsteady legs, he managed to wash his hair and arms, trying not to focus on the purple and black cuts healing on his wrists. He felt all the scabs on his arms and legs, where the cement floor had abraided them. He ran his hands along his back, between his thighs and buttocks, and shivered. Running his own hands over the areas that were so vulnerable in that basement, made him think about Tommy's hands all over him, stroking, groping, hurting…

He couldn't breathe again. He was shaking so badly now, he didn't trust himself to stand anymore and leaned against the wall of Gibbs' beautifully tiled stand-up shower, and slid down until he was on the floor, hugging his knees to himself…

He was lost in his mind now, seeing the blood on the piano keys, Tommy telling him to play, Gibbs bleeding. And Tommy's hands on him again…the sound of his own voice pleading , "Tommy, you were my only friend..."

He could hear the clanking of the chains. He was there now again, struggling against the cuffs, weeping in pain as Tommy's cock thrust in and out of him. He wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. He felt the teeth again, tearing into his flesh.

Tony blacked out.

Gibbs sighed heavily from the livingroom couch. He's set everything up in the guest room. A while ago.

He looked at the clock. Gut churning.

He knew Tony would need time. He had prepared himself to wait a while.

But that was almost 40 minutes ago. The water had to be getting cold by now.

He got up and headed to the bathroom, hearing the sound of the water as he approached the door.

He knocked.

Nothing.

He knocked again. "Tony?"

At no response the second time he went ahead and opened the door.

His initial response to seeing Tony lying on the floor of the shower was beyond panic. It was terror.

"Tony!" He dove to shut off the water and kneeled next to the extremely pale unconscious man, whose body was shivering .

"Dammit !" He tapped Tony's face with his fingers lightly. "Come on Tony, wake up !"

He heard the low moan, feeling instantly relieved. He'd just passed out. Had to be.

He stroked Tony's brow for a moment, eyes never leaving his friend's face.

Tony frowned, opening his eyes, feeling someone over him…he was naked…

He jumped back from Gibbs, eyes wild with terror for a moment, breath hitching .

"It's me, it's me Tony. It's okay…"

He saw the recognition come over the younger man.

"Okay," he forced out, "Okay…please Gibbs…don't touch me…please…"

"Okay." He said softly, and grabbed the towel off the sink, handing it to the wet, shivering man as he struggled to his feet.

Tony swayed, but righted himself. Gibbs did his best not to touch him, but stood close by in case he took a dive.

"What happened?"

"I…dunno…." Tony's shivering continued ad he wrapped the towel around him and leaned against the shower wall again. " I just…" he looked at Gibbs miserably. "I started to remember things…and just couldn't breathe…"he covered his face with one hand and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Are you hurt ?" Gibbs asked. _Stupid question. _

"Ah, no…" Tony pushed himself slowly off the wall. "Can we just…let's get this done with so I can get my clothes back on." He was determined to get a grip in front of his Boss.

He eyed Tony for another moment, suspiciously, but said,"Okay, just go into the guest room and I'll grab your sweats."

Tony slowly turned to walk out of the bathroom, avoiding the mirror, Gibbs noticed.

He then saw them. The horrible bite wounds on the back of Tony's shoulders and neck. They were nightmarish. He took in the swelling and intensely colored bruising, the scabs where teeth has broken skin. His hands started sweating. He felt the familiar helplessness, and rage coursed through him again at the thought of Tony having to endure what he did.

Tony went into the guest room, and wordlessly laid down on the bed. He didn't want to face Gibbs now. Now that he'd seen them. He couldn't bear the pity, or anger, or guilt…he wanted to disappear. Just not know or feel any of it anymore.

Gibbs set the sweats on the end of the bed.

Tony was lying face down, head turned away from him. Gibbs knew why.

With shaking hands, he took the antiseptic solution they'd told him to use, and squeezed some onto a cotton ball. He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling old and tired, and took a breath.

"If any of this hurts, don't be a tough guy DiNozzo. You say so."

He got a nod in response.

He started gently at the ones on Tony's shoulders. He felt the flinch and just continued, dabbing the solution on the wound.

Tony was breathing more heavily, the trembling intensifying.

"I'm sorry," Gibbs whispered, hating himself for having to do this.

He quickly got to the second bite with the cotton ball, and got it done. He turned to get more for the one on Tony's neck, wishing it was already over when he could hear Tony's breath coming in gasps again.

"We're almost done," he said gently, bringing his hand up to the last one. And when Tony felt the touch at the back of his neck, he broke.

Tony pulled away from him, whirling around and grabbing Gibbs' wrist. Tony was leaning on his side, up on the other quivering elbow, facing Gibbs.

Gibbs was startled, and then saw the raw pain in the green eyes, "**I CAN'T**..." he shook his head, gasping, "**I**..GIBBS…" the tears were streaming steadily and spilling onto Gibbs' hand.

Tony let go of Gibbs, and put both hands to his face moaning into them, "Oh God, I can't do this…"

Gibbs had no words. He felt sick. He leaned down and grabbed Tony, pulling him up against his chest. As he put his arms tightly around him, Tony lost himself completely, sobbing into his friend's embrace.

An hour later, Tony was quiet, asleep after having wrung himself out. Gibbs was able to finish dressing the wounds, and Tony was unaware.

He rubbed his eyes. They hurt. His leg throbbed. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the young man for a long time.

Then he got up and went downstairs, to the basement, where he drank half a bottle of bourbon, and broke apart the boat he's been working on for the last eight months with an axe.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:** For those enjoying my story and sending me really inspirational feedback – thank you so so much ! I am really satisfied with it as a first work – thus far.

Anyway – I am going away for a few days – and though I will continue writing – will not be able to upload until my return next Monday. SO, my apologies as I know you are accustomed to speedier updates !

THANKS – GRACIAS – DANKA – DOMO – GRAZIE

Gibbs sat in the basement, on his work bench, head in his hands. The carnage of splintered and broken wood didn't feel like enough yet. He had hacked away with his axe, furiously, sweat pouring down his body, until it was a pile of rubble.

His leg was throbbing continuously now.

He scrubbed at his face, muttering to himself, "So fucked up."

He felt only a little better. Or maybe just wore himself out enough. Having to clean Tony's wounds, and see the sheer torment in his eyes put Gibbs over the edge. He had never seen that kind of pain in him before. And he was supposed to protect his people. Protect Tony. He was responsible for them. Cared for them. Like a family. They were all family. And he had failed Tony so badly…

He almost couldn't bear the pain of watching him go through this. He felt like he might explode. He'd needed to come down here. Destroy something. He vaguely wondered what else he could take an axe to that he didn't need…

"Redecorating?" came a female voice from the top of the stairs. It was Ziva.

He looked up at her, raising one eyebrow.

"I know," she shrugged nonchalantly, dark eyes boring into him as she came down the stairs,"you did not want anyone coming by today…."

He sighed and looked back at the rubble.

"I was…concerned. And I see I had something to be concerned about."She walked over to him now, and leaned against him, her hip at his shoulder. She loosely slung an arm around him. She stayed like that, quietly looking at the broken boat for a while. He put his hand up to hers on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"Come on," he said finally, getting up. "Probably time I made some more coffee."

Tony could hear their voices in his half sleeping state. It was Ziva and Gibbs, talking in lowered voices in the kitchen. He could smell the coffee too. He smiled a little to himself. Then he remembered losing it with Gibbs earlier…he felt a little embarrassed, but Gibbs was comforting and solid. It made him feel better to think about that, but he felt like maybe he was also putting the older man through more of his share. _God, and I passed out in the shower_. That must have scared Gibbs pretty good. Gibbs and scared in the same sentence usually didn't happen. But then, Gibbs and kidnapped didn't usually either.

He drifted in and out of sleep for a while. He felt a little feverish, but was sure he must not be so far gone that he was imagining Ziva crawling into bed with him in the dark room. But there she was. She laid on the bed, facing him, with her head on the pillow next to his. He was thankful she didn't touch him. But, at the same time he was grateful for her presence. He could make out some of her details without the light.

"Tony."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Are you awake?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

'Tony, you are awake. How else would you be talking to me ?"

He smiled in the darkness.

"Maybe I'm dreaming," he said softly, "Of a dark eyed woman crawling into my bed."

He heard her snort.

Then, tentatively,"Tony…"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I am…I was thinking…maybe you and I could talk."

"We are talking Ziva."

"Yes but…I feel like I need to tell you something."

"What's that, Ziva?"

There was silence for a moment, and he could feel his heart pounding a little.

"I saw…I know…I know what happened in that basement."

He closed his eyes, frowning, with a sigh.

"Oh, I'm not saying I know the exact…details…but, I wanted to tell you that I care about you very much, and I understand."

He took in a sharp breath. "You understand _**what,**_ exactly?"

She was quiet for another moment. He wasn't sure he could do this conversation with her. He was about to try to get her to leave when she said,"I know what it's like to look in the mirror and not know who you are."

And just like that, he was diffused. He felt the moisture build in his eyes again, biting his lip.

"I understand," she continued,"what it's like to hate yourself so much that you wish you could disappear." Her voice had become a little lower, a little hoarse.

"I…when I was in Africa, Saleem's captive…he.."

"No," Tony stopped her, his voice softly breaking,"I don't want you to think about it again because of me." His heart ached. He had known hadn't he, that she was beaten and probably raped while Saleem had her ? He had told her, that she could talk to him. Wanted her to talk to him if she needed…

"I want to Tony. I need to…"she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He raped me several times, while I was there, and…so did one of his other men."

He marveled at how calmly she could talk about it. He'd never been able to talk about what Bobby had done to him, just buried it, until he had to tell Gibbs. And now he was a mess, a basket case, because of Tommy…

"How did you get through it?" he asked in almost a whisper. "All that time after you were home…you never even took a break from work…"

"I almost did not get through it. There were times I did not feel like me anymore. And I felt…lost. But as a friend of mine once said, sometimes, people go through bad times, and they just don't have the creativity to visualize a different reality for themselves. They can not see it… picture that it will get better. Without that picture, they have nothing to hold on to…."

He smiled in the dark again, at how clever she was, and then, at how sincere.

"I had you," she continued,"and Gibbs, and the rest of the team, my family, near me. I knew if I could get through the hard parts, I would be okay because I had people who truly cared about me."

He loved her so much at that moment, because he knew she really did understand what he was feeling.

She was silent another moment.

"I won't push you to tell me anything, Tony. I just wanted you to know. That is all."

He reached out for her in the darkness, pulling her to him. He buried his face in her neck, as she put her arms around him.

Within minutes they were both drifting to sleep.


	31. Chapter 31

Ziva woke up early. She gently extricated herself from Tony's arms. He had woken up only once during the night, heart pounding against her, breath ragged in her ear. His moan of despair was crushing, and she knew his nightmare had likely been about. So she held him more tightly, and pressed her lips to his forehead, brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead until he was asleep again.

As she closed the bedroom door behind her, she caught one more glimpse of him tossing before settling down again.

She was surprised to see Gibbs up already, perched with coffee in the kitchen. She had thought maybe to give them both space…go back to her place. But, since Gibbs was up, she walked into the kitchen instead.

She passed her hands over her face as she joined him, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep.

He watched her take a cup, and pour herself coffee. She turned around and leaned against the counter, taking a sip. She raised an eyebrow. "This is...pretty good."

"I always pull out the good stuff for the guests." He said it with a little smile, taking in her almost geometrically shaped bed-head, and rumpled, slept-in cothes. And then more seriously, "How is he?"

She sighed and looked down at her cup. "Not so good. A bit lost. Having nightmares."

If anything, he always knew the answers would be to the point with Ziva. He swallowed and nodded. "He's showing signs of Post Traumatic Stress. I told you, last night about some of it…but the nightmares…are part of it too."

Ziva nodded, and then sat down at the kitchen table with Gibbs.

"I called Doc Cranston. She's coming later... Tony has had a few episodes already since yesterday. And..." he paused to rub his eyes for a moment,"its scarin' the hell outta me." His voice was soft and low as he said,"He can't come back to work unless this is under control."

She knew he was worried about much more than just Tony coming back to work.

Ziva put her hand lightly on his arm. "He is going to be okay, Gibbs. He is Tony. He is a stubborn jackass when he wants to be. It will be hard, but he has us, and we will help him...and you."

The last part made Gibbs raise his eyebrow sharply and open his mouth to say something but she stopped him-"Yes, yes, I know, you are fine and Tony is the one who needs help. _Really_? Really Gibbs? Yes…we saw the chains…and the blood…I have a very good idea what happened, and what you must have had to watch…" she shook her head, frowning, pained for them both. "Tony is not the only one who suffered in that basement. I know you did not want to listen to me last night, but, Gibbs, you have to focus on yourself before you can be of real help to Tony. Please…Tony needs...we need you to be okay. And it is plain to see you are not."

He was annoyed. No. Pissed off. He let out a puff of air.

"It wasn't **me** Ziva, who was left alone as a child with a goddamned violent pedophile, and it wasn't **me** who was kidnapped and sexually assaulted by my childhood friend, and its not **me** with PTSD !" He couldn't stop himself from yelling.

"Do you know what he did to Tony? Did you _see _his back ? He-"

Gibbs stopped suddenly, seeing Tony now standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Gibbs was standing, near the table, breath heaving while Ziva looked back nervously between the two of them.

Tony swallowed, staring at Gibbs, and said" Go ahead. Finish it. I wasn't sure what...I wasn't sure you were conscious, what with the concussion and what he shot you up with. But...I guess you were more with it...than I thought..." Tony started shivering himself. He put a hand up to steady himself against the doorway.

"Tony..." Gibbs tried to soothe.

Ziva got up now from her chair and said,"Maybe I should let you talk alone..." making to leave.

Neither man said a word. She gave a little squeeze to Gibbs sleeve and did not touch Tony as she passed him, but gave him a sad smile and said, "I will call later."

He heard the front door close behind her. Now he wasn't sure what to do. It seemed a little easier with Ziva there…could he continue this...confrontation of a sort or hastily retreat. This was Gibbs, the man who had been his Boss, his mentor…who he had loved and looked up to for years. And he had been witness to the most horrible, humiliating moments of Tony's adult life. And neglected to mention it. Because it was ugly, and maybe Gibbs felt a little about Tony how he felt about himself. That he was weak, and disgusted him. Add on the guilt…Tony closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, couldn't look Gibbs in the eye.

"Tony..."Gibbs tried again.

"Do you...did you see it? Or just hear it? All of it? " he asked, quiver in his voice.

Gibbs shook his head,"No, but...I heard some things...and I came to, and I was confused. You were...in shock I think..."

Tony knew Gibbs needed to recount it, to Ziva, to let it out. To get out the fear...and the guilt. But he was starting to feel panic again, at dancing around the topic of the chains…the bites… Even if Gibbs didn't feel the same way about him anymore, he had to try to be stronger. He had to try to be stronger for Gibbs. After so many years together…he deserved that.

He heard the older man continue slowly,"And...I saw the blood on the floor...and that scumbag had it all over him...I knew…it was your blood." Gibbs' voice had become a hoarse murmer. "When he had the knife in his hands...I thought he was gonna kill you right there at the piano..."

Gibbs looked a little dazed, recounting the terror he experienced with Tony in that basement.

Tony couldn't take it. He tried. But he could feel Tommy all over him again. He ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and threw up.

Gibbs could hear the retching faintly, and pinched his eyes closed for a moment in the kitchen. Why had he done that? He took the nightmare and just put it on the table all over again for Tony to relive. What kind of person does that? He hated himself passionately and wished his boat was in one piece to destroy all over again.

_Well_, he thought bitterly, _Rachel Cranston was going to have her hands full._

Shortly after, Gibbs was sitting in the living room, with his head in his hands, angry with himself for upsetting Tony.

He usually knew how to control situations, so they didn't get out of hand. He lost himself in recounting the horrible basement situation to Ziva...but he'd needed to. He realized it after he started yelling...just, he could not allow it to happen again at Tony's expense.

He heard Tony come out of the bathroom and walk straight into the guest room. He sighed and rolled his eyes a little to himself. He needed to see that the younger man was okay...but figured Tony had to be pissed at him.

He walked into the hallway and knocked at the door.

"Uh-huh, Tony responded tiredly.

Gibbs opened the door, observing that his friend was packing up his things, and got out "Tony, I-" and was cut off by a car backfiring out in the street.

Before his eyes, Tony came apart at a frightening clip. He gasped and fell to his knees next to the dresser. He moaned and pitched forward, panting.

As Gibbs knelt down next to him, he put a hand out towards his friend's shoulder, about to call his name.

"No! Don't",Tony moaned, pulling away from the touch and ending up on his side against the wall.

He approached him again , calling gently, "Tony…Tony.."

No response. Tony's eyes were open but had no focus. Suddenly, he closed them, as if in pain.

"Okay, Tony, come on, come back to me!" Gibbs wasn't sure what to do or if he should touch him…

It lasted for a horrifying 20 minutes this time. Tony called his name, with desperation and despair, more than once. He tried so hard to let him know that he wasn't in the basement, was safe at home. Gibbs started to wonder if he should call an ambulance, or Ducky to avoid a psych ward admittance on Tony's records.

Tony was shuddering, sounding as if he just couldn't get any air. "Please..."he cried out in between gasps, a sob escaping from him, "…stop!...God !"

Gibbs was about to try and slap him to bring him out of the waking nightmare he was in, but with no warning, Tony passed out.

Gibbs dragged him off the floor with shaking legs and got him onto the bed. He ran and got a cold washcloth, the only thing he could think to do. He sat back down on the bed, wiping the tear streaked face with it. His heart rate came down just a bit now that Tony was out of his episode.

"What are we gonna do DiNozzo." He asked but knew he'd get no reply yet. Tony's breathing was still shallow.

He couldn't hold it back any more. As he gently stroked Tony's brow with the washcloth, his own eyes started to get cloudy. He only let his breath hitch once or twice before forcing himself to stop, the tears escaping anyway, falling onto Tony.

He heard a soft moan...Tony was coming around. But instead of staying with him, Gibbs couldn't let him see the raw emotion in him, or the wet tracks down his own face.

So he left the washcloth on Tony's head and left the room quickly.

As Tony opened his eyes, very confused for a moment, he sat up with the washcloth falling into his lap. He picked it up curiously and then remembered what had happened.

He laid back with an anguished groan. Obviously, Gibbs couldn't take it anymore… and had just left him in the room. He couldn't help feeling abandoned, by the one person he could always count on. He felt a pain in his being...a hopelessness opening up like a black hole. He wished it would just swallow him up. This was too hard. There was no way Gibbs was going to look at him the same way again.

Gibbs then appeared at the doorway, and said "Doc Cranston is gonna be here tonight. I think...we have to do whatever it takes to get you past this...I know its hard-"

"You don't know Jack." Tony said, his hurt and anger bleeding into the words. "All you know is you want me fixed so you don't have to feel responsible for me anymore. So I can get the hell out of your hair and you don't have to look at me or feel guilty over what happened. I get it Boss. So yeah, the sooner the better. But I was just thinkin' that maybe I should go back to my place..." he eyed the bag he'd started packing up before his...episode.

Gibbs felt furious, that after all this, Tony didn't know him well enough to see how deeply he cared. But all he said, curtly was, "You can't go home. You get triggered by car backfire, and still need help with your wounds."

Tony stared at the doorway as Gibbs walked away, his hands clenched at his sides.


	32. Chapter 32

Tony didn't think he could take the pain he was feeling. After the exchange with Gibbs, he cooled down a bit, he tried to rationalize what had just happened. He knew he should be thankful that Gibbs gave a damn enough to have him stay...no matter if the motivation was mainly guilt...but he couldn't help but feel let down by how the older mans last words to him had been… and they hurt much worse than he thought possible. Gibbs had been cold.

He felt so alone. He thought of Ziva. And what she said. He knew she meant it all, but, he didn't feel that kind of support was going to come from Gibbs. And there was nothing to take away the feeling he'd lost the only real father he had. Or maybe, Tommy had succeeded, in taking Gibbs away from him, in a way. Or maybe he just expected too much.

His own father had failed miserably to be anything of a real parent. And he'd left Tony to the wolves. He shivered, thinking back to those several years of living hell...

He curled up a bit on the bed, feeling isolated in his own misery. He was not sure how he was going to get through any of this, especially without Gibbs really being there.

Gibbs went down to the basement, to continue cleaning the mess he'd made the night before. He eyed the bottle of bourbon, still half full on his work table. He shrugged off the idea of getting drunk again since Rachel Cranston was coming shortly. Though he itched to.

He sighed. He didn't mean to be such a hardass to Tony earlier. He knew he probably said the wrong thing. But sooner or later, it was bound to happen. Second B for bastard after all. He'd hurt Tony. Now after everything that kid had been through, _he_ hurt Tony. Maybe he was better off staying with Ducky or McGee...

In his heart he knew that probably wasn't the answer, but he was at a loss.

He continued sweeping and thinking until he noticed it was getting close to Cranston's visit. He went upstairs and washed up before going to knock on the guest room door.

There was no response but the door was ajar so Gibbs pushed it open a bit. He saw Tony was still lying in the bed, one arm slung up over his head.

"Tony."

At least it was calm.

"Yeah Boss," an even softer reply.

"Doc's gonna be here any minute, so, maybe you wanna get up...get cleaned up a little." Gibbs felt a little bit like a hypocritical, nagging parent. This was his Senior Agent. But he couldn't help the hovering. He seemed to need to be reminded that Tony was alive, was okay...but things kept getting worse the more he wanted them to be better.

She arrived on time, with her coffee in hand, to Gibbs' front door. When he answered, she noticed the tension in his posture, and pale color of his face. The icy blue of his eyes now looked a bit darker...subdued. He smiled slightly and greeted her.

"Hi Doc. Come in."

"Agent Gibbs." She followed him into the living room, where Tony was sitting on the couch, picking at the piping on the cushion. He looked even worse than Gibbs.

"Hi Doc," Tony greeted her, standing up politely.

"Hi Tony," she smiled at him.

They all stood uncomfortably silent for a moment before she said" So...shall we sit here in the living room or is there somewhere else..."

"Oh, no, here's fine," Gibbs said pulling the club chair closer to the couch.

Tony sat down wordlessly, and then Gibbs waited for Rachel to take her seat before he took his, on the couch. A bit away from Tony, she noted. The two men were also not looking each other in the eye.

She took note of Tony's neck...the discoloration of bruising and the stitched up cut. The circles under his eyes, the pale skin, and the desolate look in his eyes. She knew this was going to be bad. But the sooner they got started...the sooner they could come out the other side of this.

"Okay, so..I understand from talking to you,"she began, looking at Gibbs, "that there was an incident involving you and Tony. And that there is some fallout as a result, and that you could use some help. Are you okay with that so far Tony? " she turned her eyes on him.

He was looking down at his hands and then back up to her. "I am definitely not okay with this. But then again...I'm not okay with much of anything right now."

She was surprised at the lack of humor, of any kind of deflection method. He seemed...defeated.

Gibbs was finally eyeing him, but then turned to her."Doc, I know this is confidential, but...can you be...selective in what goes in your report if you have to submit a psych eval for Tony? "

Tony had a blank look on his face.

"Is that what you think you may need, Tony?" She asked, wanting him to speak for himself. "Why would you need the psych eval? "

He honestly didn't know where to start. He sighed. And looked around for a moment. Then slowly, "I think … I have PTSD. And the way I got here...was because of a maniac who did some pretty screwed up things to me...and to the Boss. And, I think some of those things might be...damaging, if they went in a formal record. So yes. I think that's what I may need."

She nodded. "Okay. I have the ability to write it up as I see fit, so, we can see how this goes and decide how to proceed when we're a little further along. Now, I want to tell you that we are talking together first, because, you went through something very difficult together, and I want to understand what exactly happened from both perspectives initially. I will likely recommend sessions after this separately, once in a while together. Are you both comfortable with that? " They nodded, looking about as uncomfortable as possible.

"Gibbs, why don't you give me your version of what happened first, and then I can get Tony's." She could see Gibbs was surprised she asked him first.

He looked down for a bit, gathering his thoughts. "Someone from Tony's past, who had it out for him, got the drop on me. And held me hostage, to torture Tony with. Then, he managed to get Tony too...and he...hurt Tony, and threatened us both. He shot me in the leg. And..." Gibbs was struggling for words,"in the process he...cut Tony with a knife...and bit him..."He trailed off softly.

She raised her eyebrows at that last part. "_Bit_ him?" She said with some surprise, and masked the anger she felt for it, and then turned to Tony who was nervously picking at the piping on the couch again. "He bit you Tony? How did that happen? "

She noticed his breathing was a little shallow. His mouth was set in a grim line. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it. He shook his head and closed his eyes. Then, he stood up suddenly, about to bolt, muttering, "I'm sorry,I-"when Gibbs grabbed his wrist.

"Hey, come on, we have to do this," Gibbs said in a soft plea.

"**No**. No **you** have to do this. So you can stop feeling guilty." Tony was almost monotone again.

Gibbs shook his head and stood up, "It's not why. It's not why were doing this."

"Okay, okay, both of you, please...sit down." Gibbs let go of Tony's wrist and once again they sat on the couch. It took Tony a moment longer, and then he sat down as well.

"So," she looked at Gibbs, giving tony a moment to collect himself, "do you feel guilty? "

He opened his mouth to answer when Tony said hotly, "Oh yeah he does. The only reason I'm here right now is because of the guilt. Otherwise I'm not sure he could stand the sight of me."

Gibbs looked at him, angrily.

"Why do you think so? "

"He...he knows what...he knows what happened, and he feels guilty for it...because he couldn't stop it. And I'm...not right. I'm freaking out. And every time I lose control of myself I'm back there...in the basement...and Gibbs _knows_ what Tommy did to me...its sickening..."he was trying to hold back his emotion, trembling a little. The next part was a half whisper, "I don't blame him for it, I can barely look at myself in the mirror."

Gibbs' mouth hung open. "You think that's what my problem is? That I look at you like that? Yes I do feel guilty but there's more to it."

"Why do you feel guilty? " Rachel chimed in.

"I'm supposed to protect him,"Gibbs choked it out, turning his pained eyes to her. "He's part of my team. And I'm supposed to protect him. I let him down..."

"I can see how you'd feel like that. Your team is like family to you. But think about your own family, were you able to protect them? " She knew it was cruel. She knew about Shannon and Kelly. But she had to say it.

Tony was wide eyed now, looking at Gibbs.

Gibbs swallowed and was quiet for a moment. It had been a direct hit. "No."

"And was that your fault? "

He took a deep breath. It had taken him years to let go of that guilt. Most of it anyway.

"No."

"So. why the freaking out and breaking your **boat** into little pieces ? Why the anger when I freak out, and why can't you be in the same room with me, if it's not that you're..."Tony was trying to find the words, "repulsed by me?"

She had to ask Tony, "Why would Gibbs or anyone else be repulsed by you? What happened to you exactly in the basement? "

He knew he had to answer. He had to tell her. But he was so afraid he would lose it again. He looked away for a moment, eyes glassy, and then turned to Gibbs. "Can _**you**_ deal with it if I say it? If I put the whole picture in your mind? Give it to you in full Technicolor ? Cos' I'm not sure I can..."his voice was breaking and he looked at her now,"I'm not sure I can do this."

She already knew, based on other clients and years of dealing with traumatized people, what had happened to Tony. But he needed to talk about it, face it, and confront the fear now, and each time he had a flashback. Her heart truly broke at what she knew he would need to endure in the next several months.

"If you are going to control and banish the symptoms you are having, you need to confront it. If there were any other way I knew than I would offer it. But this is where we have to start." She took note of Gibbs, clenching his hands on top of his thighs.

Tony sat for a moment, and rubbed his face. Then looked at her and nodded. He looked down. "Tommy used chloroform…to kidnap me..."

"Tommy is the maniac? "

"_Was._ Was the maniac. He was the son of my childhood piano teacher...who was...a pedophile." He looked up at her, for a reaction.

"We will talk about that too later," she said gently. "Go on."

"He...had things set up in the basement of a warehouse down by the docks...he took me there...and I didn't remember anything from Gibbs' house until I started to come to..."he took another shaky breath.

"I was on the floor..." he wanted the words to come out but he was struggling, trying hard to control his breathing. "I was…naked, face down on the floor…" he paused, running a shaking hand through his hair. "There were...chains…around some pipes and …he handcuffed me, and tied my ankles down. I didn't realize who he was until that point. We hadn't seen each other…at least…_I hadn't seen him_, in many years. I was a little shocked...to say the least." He stopped to rub his eyes again.

Gibbs was trembling now too. She could see the anger boiling. She decided to let it play out.

"He…" there was a long pause. Tony's hands were shaking.

"I can't..." He suddenly leaned forward with his hands at his temples, eyes closed.

She gave him a moment.

"You have to try. Tell me the rest."

He nodded, not looking at her. She saw his eyes glistening.

"He...took off his clothes...and said some terrible things to me..." Tony was riddled with tremors now, body shaking as he tried to still himself. "He shot me up with a sedative, and then he...he...raped me..." his voice was getting caught, he felt like he couldn't breathe...

"Listen to my voice Tony...are you listening? " she said it low and calm.

He nodded, leaning almost all the way over his knees. Gibbs was looking off to the side away from his friend, in complete torment.

"You're safe. Breathe. And when you can, continue."

He took another moment, not looking at either of them. "He...while he was doing that...he bit me...so hard the first time, I think I almost blacked out from the pain..." his breath was starting to come a little faster.

Gibbs was barely containing himself.

"He...did it again…and then again.. He…took a chain..."Tonys voice was breaking, and gasping, trying not to lose control "and wrapped it around my neck...and he..God...he-"

"Fuck!" Gibbs yelled, getting up. Tony jumped a little in surprise. Gibbs paced and growled out, "That fucking **bastard.** I hope he's burning in Hell."

She waited a few more moments for him to collect himself and sit down. She saw Tony's face...the tears pain and misery.

Gibbs sat neared to Tony now...protectively.

"Why did that make you so angry Gibbs?"

"Are you **serious**? " he asked her. "Tony is part of my team...this lunatic...hurt him."

"And you felt guilty?"

"Yes."

"And angry."

"**Yes!"**

"But that's all? "

"No."

"What else? What else is there if that's not all Gibbs? Just say what's on your mind!"

Tony, still trembling, was looking at Gibbs now, uncertain what he was going to say.

"**It's killing me! Alright? **Its killing me because…because I love him, like he was my own son. But I let him down, as bad as his _real _dad did."

He turned to Tony, who was obviously shocked at the words Gibbs had said.

"I'm sorry Tony...I'm so sorry..." Gibbs looked at him, desperately. "I wish to God I could have killed that animal before he ever laid a finger on you…"

Tony looked so utterly taken aback...but something changed a little, in his eyes. Rachel saw it…was relieved to see it.

Tony stared at Gibbs for another moment before quickly reaching for him, and pulling him into a tight embrace. Raw emotion leaked from his words "I would have been lucky to have you as my father...and you could never, ever let me down like he did. This. Was. Not. Your fault. And I need you. I can't get through this without you Boss." He tightened his arms around the older man, to drive it in," So please...you can't change what happened, any more than I can."

"Okay, Tony. Okay." Gibbs said, giving in.

Tony let go of Gibbs after a minute, and then looked at the Doctor who patiently took in the whole interaction, and though his voice was still a little shaky, he said "Now can we talk about fixing the Boss' personality? "


	33. Chapter 33

It took three months. For the episodes to stop. For the nightmares to lessen in frequency. And for Tony to be able to go to the firing range with steady hands.

His sessions with Rachel Canston had gone on, longer than with Gibbs. And he was still seeing her once a week.

It had helped. A lot. Along with all the support he got from the team. Things were pretty much back to normal...except, they seemed closer. He and Gibbs were closer. A different type of understanding had grown between them. And if anything, that was the one positive Tony had valued as a result of all the hell he'd suffered.

He smiled to himself, sitting down at his desk on his first official day back. Abby had plastered his desk and file cabinet with cut-outs of Humphrey Bogart and other old black and white movie stars. And added her personal touch...black metallic balloons with "Welcome Back Tony" written in silver paint.

It was so good to be back. As he heard McGee let out a girlish shriek at the spring snakes popping out of his top drawer, he looked up to see Ziva giving him a knowing smile. She'd seen him doing something at McGees desk before the Probie got in.

He also looked up and caught Gibbs looking at him, thoughtfully and then giving Tony a small smile as they both heard McGee mutter, "I hate you Tony."

_Yep. I'm back._ He thought contentedly.

He picked up the receiver of his desk line and started to listen to a backlog of messages, mostly mundane office business. He was surprised when he heard his father's message.

_"Hi Junior. I'm sorry I missed your calls… I've been out of the country, working on a pretty big deal. Anyway...I'm not sure what would be so urgent about the piano, but it sat in storage from the day you stopped playing until about a year ago...Tommy Anselmo contacted me about it, and said he wanted it so...I told him he could have it, I hope that's okay..I'm thinking maybe you wanted it back because you're playing again? That would be superb, really. I asked him how his father was...you know Bobby was pissed at me when you quit...he didn't call me even once after that and I was in Europe mostly after you went to the Academy...anyway, he said he hadn't seen him in a while. I thought it strange. And I didn't mention it to you...didn't think you cared about it. So a long message but...I'll get to the point. I'm gonna be in town in June. Hope to see you then. I'll call you."_

**THE END**

Or is it ?

This story has a sequel, but coming a bit later. Keep a look out for it. It will be called **Lies of Omission**. In it, Tonys father comes to visit with disastrous results. Tony discovers a truth that could unravel the fabric of his world. Rating TBA later.

SORRY GUYS ! I AM cleaning up a bit – condensed two chaps on this and it kicked out an alert to you without any new material- MY APOLOGIES !

Have started next story – Mirror of Archimedes….


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